


Client: Red Sky

by alabaster_heart



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Enemy Lovers, F/M, Face-Sitting, Falling In Love, Femsub, Graphic Description, HighSpecs, Ignea, Maledom, Maledom/Femsub, Masturbation, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Painplay, Panty Kink, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Pre-Canon, Pre-canon lead to canon timeline, Rope Bondage, Safewords, Secret Identity, Sex Toys, Sex toys inspired by the Astrals, Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Wedgie kink, Whipping, or is it femsub?, who’s really in control?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11789211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alabaster_heart/pseuds/alabaster_heart
Summary: Aranea is "Red Sky". She is a client at an Insomnian agency that specializes in bondage. On his nights off from his royal duties Ignis works as one of the doms at the agency under the identity of "Foresight". Aranea has found Ignis is the only one who has fulfilled her needs and desires. She admires his creativity. He admires her strength. The secret enemies find themselves drawn to one another beyond their contractual relationship. After Insomnia falls Foresight and Red Sky believe they will never see each other again until a fateful encounter after an infiltration gone wrong.





	1. Client: Red Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his nights off in Insomnia, Ignis meets a masked woman known only as "Red Sky" who appreciates his creativity in the art of bondage. She has specific requests and only he has proven to deliver on her wicked wishes.
> 
> "She was not one to be afraid of heights, but for the first time she feared the sky."

Chapter 1: Client: Red Sky

 

He adjusted his glasses and looked at the time. She was running late. Late by his standards, but she always made it worth his while. This was their twenty-seventh session.

Ignis was ready, dressed in a crisp wine red shirt tucked into black flat-front slacks. His blazer hung on the hanger. There was no need for formality.

It wasn’t the biggest room but it housed everything he needed. He walked over to the side parlor to check the mirror. His hair was swept down and to the side and he was very clean-shaven thanks to his trip to the barber that morning. He considered taking off his glasses. The thick black frames slid down his nose frequently and he didn’t want to keep adjusting them during this session.

He looked down at the sink. It was filled to the top with water. He dipped a finger. It was cold from the dozens of ice cubes he let melt. He pressed the ice cold droplet onto his lip to moisten them.

He heard a rustle in the other room. It couldn’t be, he thought.

He walked around and there she stood.

She was dressed exactly as she said she would in the latest request.

She wore a deep violet cloak with black fur trimming. He was excited to see her curves were still noticeable despite the volume of her outerwear. She wore silver platform heels with straps. Straps, he thought. Smart. He wouldn’t have to keep bending down to put them back on.

They were stacked heels. She must be a practical type of woman in the outside world, he thought. He found himself always piecing data about this woman each time they met.

As usual her jet black hair was in a high pony-tail and curled at the ends. Her mask was red this time. It was barely a mask. He could see how beautiful she was. The mask was lacy, but, instead of the usual feminine pattern most clients liked to wear, these were almost web-like; perfect for a spider. The red was striking. The edges seemed almost sewn into her hair. There was probably a clip somewhere within the temples.

“Well, well, Red Sky.” That was all she went by: Red Sky. He looked at the clock. He preferred sessions to begin on the dot, not have the two parties arrive on the dot. “I suppose you are on-time.”

“Relax, Four Eyes,” she said. “I can afford the overtime.”

She turned and faced him. Her ivory skin looked beautiful against the violet of her cloak. She unbuttoned it and unfurled the tie around her waist.

He unbuttoned a cufflink and rolled his sleeve.

“Besides, I had a head start.” She let the cloak fall to her feet.

He nearly broke his composure seeing her body. He was always good with keeping his distance but the realness of her body startled him every time he saw her.

She wore a white demi-bra that made the tops of her breast look plump and firm. For her bottoms she wore a small red panty in the same spider-web lace pattern as her mask.

Her proportions fascinated him. Dressed in her cloak she seemed tall and statuesque. He could see she was shorter than she appeared especially if she took off her tall heels. She was very athletically built, muscular in the shoulders, biceps, abdominals, thighs and calves. But her breasts and hips were quite feminine. He loved discovering more of her body.

He kept calm. This was still a business transaction after all.

He knelt down to pick up her cloak.

She smirked. He always seemed to take care of housekeeping first.

As he gathered her cloak he noticed how thin her ankles were. And her heels were much more worn at the edges than he realized. He didn’t know whether to take it as her being the type that was always on her feet or if she could not afford newer shoes.

Her hands were on her hips. He noticed her nails were unmanicured. Not that it mattered to him. But her fingers in general were big and calloused. I wonder what she does for a living, he thought.

His other patrons always dressed to the nines; often coming in evening attire with every inch of their body as if returned from a spa. She liked to cut to the chase.

“You like these?” She asked, tapping at her panties.

“Lace, now,” he answered.

“For your collection,” she said with a slight sway of her hips.

“My collection?”

“You kept the last ones.” She gently tapped his chin with her knee.

“So you remember,” he said as he hung her cloak on the wall.

“Am I ever going to get them back?” She asked, standing there amidst all the contraptions and gadgets hanging about the room.

He looked at her. She was directly under the track lights, illuminating all parts of her. He felt more than ready to start. He noticed her fidget. She didn’t seem to like standing still.

She seemed more than eager. He rolled up his other sleeve slowly. It seemed to make her fidget more.

He waited for a sign from her. He loved making her impatient. She gave off a tough and confident exterior. In many ways she was that type of woman. But in these sessions, in this room, she was excitable; nervous.

She sighed. He watched her shoulders drop. He knew it was time.

He reached into his back pocket and threw it at her. She caught it with ease. It.

“My thong!” She laughed. They were black satin with wine red trim. The tone of her voice was of curiosity.

“Take those frilly things off and put those on.” He said, still at the corner of the room next to the hanger, still rolling the sleeve of his wine red shirt. He hoped she noticed he matched the red of his shirt with the red of the trimming.

She smirked, almost as if spitting at him. But she went along.

She slid off her lace with the spider web designs one leg at a time. When they reached the bottom, she kicked them at him. He caught them. He felt the texture of her web-lace underwear. Some of the lace pieces were torn off. They were cheap, but he didn’t care. They were already wet and he could smell her sweetness.

He gazed at her body, naked from the waist down. He could already feel his dick hardening at the sight of her pussy. He kept his composure.

She picked up the thong. “Seems like a waste of time, me redressing after you already get me to undress.”

“Backwards,” he interrupted her just as she was about to step into the thong. “Put them on backwards.”

She was standing on one foot. She had great balance, he thought. She shot him a look. He could tell she was trying to match his poker face. But she wasn’t naturally the type to hide her emotions as he was.

She slightly snorted a laugh and he could see the edges of her lips curl up.

She turned the thong around. She knew visually how that would look.

He gulped. He was worried she heard him gulp. Soon he wouldn’t have to keep calm. She would be too preoccupied to notice any of his reactions.

She looked him in the eyes as she slid the thong up her calves, over her knees and passed her smooth and muscular thighs. She pulled them up and over her hips.

She immediately felt the satin ride up the entirety of her slit.

“What imaginative thing are you going to do with my lace ones the next time?” She asked seeing him play with the lace between his thumb and finger.

“Already planning the next time?” He asked.

She wondered how he could keep so still. She felt the satin ride into her from front to back. She got wet again. She thought she felt her wetness slide down her inner thigh. She closed her leg hoping he wouldn’t notice. At least, she didn’t want him to notice yet.

“Turn around and look up,” he said.

She turned and looked to see a hook up on the ceiling. Just a hook. Of all the different pulleys and gizmos strewn about the room he only wanted her to focus on the hook.

He was quiet all of a sudden for her. He was always quiet but this time he was really quiet. Too quiet.

She took a deep breath. The anticipation, knowing he was behind her, watching her, the full awareness of his eyes on her body; she was ready to turn around and high kick him.

But she let the anticipation be a part of the session.

A minute seemed to tick by.

Shit, she thought. She didn’t want to pay for just a silent session of him watching her.

She growled. “Just what--”

She said “what” causing her mouth to open wide, but he caught her from behind, stuffing something about her mouth. It had a texture of netting.

Her instincts told her to protect herself. She grabbed his wrists. He wouldn't budge. She still couldn't tell what that was he had over her mouth. She clawed at his hand, but he slapped them away. She felt the fingers of his other hand stuffing bunches of the cloth into her, wiggling the netting onto her tongue.

The momentum of their bodies falling backwards made her lose her balance no thanks to the damned heels. He half-walked half-dragged her to the side parlor with the sink.

Her fighting instincts were still strong. She tried to kick, but the tight thong shot into her nerve endings. Before she knew it he layered a leather strap across her mouth atop the netting. She felt him clasp the strap. It felt like a mini-belt holding the stupid thing in her mouth, gagging her.

He dragged her to the parlor sink. He grabbed her pony tail forcing her to face the mirror. She realized the thing in her mouth was her underwear that she tossed at him.

He put an arm around her neck, just enough to secure her against him. He didn’t want to choke her. He wanted her to trust him. He waited for the balance between fear and trust, whatever that may be, whether by her actions or his instincts.

His glasses were already sliding down his nose as he held her struggling body against him. She was very strong, but he was prepared for that.

He reached one hand to her buttock and slid his thumb on the backside of her thong. He grabbed a fistful of the underwear and pulled up, shocking her with a wedgie tightening the back and the front of her slit.

She yelped. He had never heard her yelp in such a hitch pitched tone before. It excited him. He held onto the fistful of her thong; his knuckles grazing her crack feeling the heat of her desires.

She watched him in the mirror as he nuzzled his nose against her ear. He wasn’t even watching her. His eyes were closed. He was feeling her movements. She didn’t know why that turned her on more than the sensations on her body.

He could feel her breathing calming down though she was still kicking; at least trying to kick. She felt ice cold water from the sink splash down at their feet.

He felt the water on his loafers. He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Now look what you did. My designer loafers are already soiled because of you.”

He pressed her forward, her hips stopping against the sink. The icy water waved over the edge and onto her hips. He pushed against her more positioning her pussy lips directly against the cold porcelain.

She wriggled from the shock, but she stopped fighting him. He could feel her calming down.

He pulled her arms behind her and secured her wrists with one hand. He reached in front with his other hand and squeezed a breast. She finally saw him open his eyes and stare at her in the mirror.

“White lace,” he chuckled toying with the fabric of her bra. “You are hardly one to wear such a symbol of wisdom and goodness. Shiva would be appalled at you.”

He licked her ear lobe. It tickled her but not in a good way. She saw his eyes watching her disgusted reaction.

He put a hand to her mouth and tugged at the red web laced underwear gagging into her. “This is more you. Trampy red underwear from some cheap bargain bin.”

She growled in anger. She geared to headbutt him, but he pinched her nipple before she could focus her strength. Her knees weakened.

He pressed her face into the mirror, the air from her nostrils fogging the surface. “Your emotions are predictable, my lady.”

She let loose one of her hands and attempted to claw at his face. He let go of the nipple and caught her swinging hand above her head. He was holding on to both her wrists now; one over her head and one behind her back; he locked the rest of her body by pressing the full weight of his torso forward.

He then stepped back and pushed her forward quickly. Her breasts plunged into the cold water. Her hand over her head landed on the mirror as a failed attempt at catching herself. Her other hand behind her still struggling from the grip he had on her wrist.

Her face rested on the faucet; the knob for the hot water on her cheek. She saw the red “H” on the knob.

He counted the seconds tick by in his head, feeling her struggle against his chest and stomach. Her hips wriggled against his hips. His bulge was already extremely hard pressing onto one butt cheek. Her muffled screaming echoing in his ears. He kissed her back.

Her breasts were freezing cold, her heart was beating so fast, but she focused her attention on the hot water knob and turned inch by inch using the only appendage she could still control: her cheekbone.

He was oblivious to her mission. He decided to indulge himself. He took the hand behind her and positioned it in front of his bulge. Her writhing hand felt good on his cock. She probably didn't even notice no thanks to the stabbing shock of the cold water.

After a few moments, he noticed she stopped wriggling. He heard the sound of streaming water; the water was overflowing and dripping to the ground. She was breathing sighs of relief. He looked up and saw the hot water was flowing, filling the basin over.

He pulled her up, water splashing everywhere. He growled into her ear. “Don’t you get fresh.”

He turned the faucet off. He stared into the mirror. Even through the water droplets splashed onto his glasses, he saw the whites of her bra soaked through and through revealing the full picture of her breasts.

Her nipples were large and dark. He loved large nipples. They always appeared so prominently and looked so forbidden through soaking white garments.

He reached forward and grabbed a fistful of the front of her thong and yanked upward shocking her sensations once again. She groaned, her clitoris crushing into the wet satin that felt more like thick leather chafing into her sensitive flesh.

Her head fell back onto his shoulder. The thong was riding so much harder now into the entirety of her crevice she forgot the initial discomfort when she put them on.

But her sex was deceiving her as she was taking great joy in the pain. She was glad she was soaking wet from the sink water. It was hiding her natural wetness seeping down her inner thighs.

He loved that she was taking it. She always managed to surprise him more than he surprised her.

“Don’t you dare cum yet,” he said even though he gave another hard tug which would have been enough to send her to orgasm. He knew exactly how to get her to orgasm. He knew she loved clitoral stimulation. It was difficult for her to focus now but she listened to his command. “Open your eyes.”

She struggled to open them. Her clit pulsed against the wet satin. One of her ankles gave away. But that only caused her weight to fall into the terrible trap he made for her. She wondered how he was keeping such a strong grip.

She stared at the base of his jawline as her head rested on his shoulder. It was so smooth and clean. He smelled so clean, too. She could see beads of sweat forming at his temple. Some of his hair was already matting onto his forehead.

“Look in the mirror.” She didn’t want to. She wanted to keep staring at his face. “Look at yourself.”

She turned and saw their muddled reflection on the wet mirror with her dripping handprint. Much of the mirror was wet from her thrashing.

She saw the thong braced hard into her pussy; she wondered how much further it could ride up. He traced his fingers over her wet nipples. “Look at these works of art.”

He pinched one and then the other.

“You play with your nipples when you masturbate, don't you?” He whispered.

She smiled despite the lace underwear covering most of her mouth.

“I see,” he chuckled. Her chest heaved up and down; her bulbous wet breasts riding with them. “Did you ever cum playing with your nipples alone?”

She loved the sound of his voice as he said these things to her. She rested her temple against his jawline.

He smelled her hair. They smelled like a mix of black currants and roses. He was feeling hypnotized by her strength and vulnerability.

He looked at the combination of all of her colors. Her pale skin, her jet black hair, the wine red mask, the wine red underwear in her mouth, her white brassiere, and the black thong. Through it all there were her eyes; icy sage green eyes that pierced through the redness of her mask.

The white brassier was too much. It wasn’t right for this moment.

With both hands he reached up and maneuvered the lacy cups of the bra under her breasts, forcing them even higher. Her large nipples were now front and center, perked and pointed.

That was more like it, he thought. The white lace was no longer angelic, but ironic, making the moment all the more illicit.

She didn’t fight him anymore. She seemed relieved. She turned to look at him again. She pressed her nose into his neck.

He shifted his gaze onto her face. Spit drooled down the side of her mouth. He leaned forward smelling her scent. He traced his lower lip against the web lace covering her mouth. They were soaking wet now.

He kissed her. She let him.

Her lips felt so good and plump to him.

His lips were warm and juicy to her.

He leaned his head on her forehead. He opened his eyes and saw the stark nature of their relationship in the mirror; her breasts pushed up and high, nipples taut, thong up her pussy and a red lacy underwear gagged in her mouth.

No, he thought. This is not what she wants. He broke their moment of peace and grabbed the straps of her bra. He pulled. She toppled to the ground. He dragged her by her bra straps back into the main room.

The thong was still secured tight into the sensitive flesh of her slit despite her struggles. She growled through her gag feeling the wires of her bra cut into the underside of her breasts.

He dropped her next to a window that overlooked the city.

She closed her eyes catching her breath. The gag was cutting into her air passage weakening her; keeping her from fighting.

She heard him step around her. Then she heard what sounded like clanging metal.

She gasped when a large strand of chains dropped in front of her in a terrifying heap.

She tried to get up, but he immediately latched one of her hands onto a leather strap. He was so fast. That or she was rendered slower from the lack of air and the exhilarating sensations on her body.

There was a second leather strap next to the one already around one wrist. He grabbed her other wrist. She thought he was going to immediately strap it but instead he lowered her hand under his crotch.

She saw his face was still calm, but he was letting off sighs and moans as he rubbed her hand on his balls. His trousers were tight but she could feel the bulbs through the fabric. She squeezed them. He smiled.

She saw the front of his forehead was completely drenched in sweat now, the front of his hair matted against them. She also noticed sweat was forming on his chest and neck; the wine red shirt was now darker on the breast and collar.

She wondered what he was going to do with the chains. They looked ominous and he looked more dangerous than ever.

He knew she was looking at chain. He pulled her wrist away from his crotch and finally strapped it into the other leather cuff above her head. The leather cuffs were attached to a pulley in the ceiling.

He lied on the floor next to her. She couldn’t tell if he was being sweet or if he was mocking her. It was so hard to tell his emotions most of the time; it was what made their sessions so unpredictable and exciting for her.

He put his hand on her face. “You are a strong woman.”

She was puzzled.

“But I don’t think you will even be able to handle what is to come.”

Her nostrils flared. She kicked at him. Her heel made contact with his shin. He grunted from the searing pain.

She rose up and nearly put his head into a headlock with her muscular legs, but she didn’t notice he had a remote controller in his other hand. He hit the button. The cuffs around her wrists attached to the pulley hauled her backwards.

She tried to get up. He rolled over and straddled her torso.

He twisted both of her nipples. She planted her feet on the ground and rose her hips upward.

Ignis was startled once again by her strength as he felt himself lift off the ground. He fought her back by squeezing his thighs and pressed his full weight down on her stomach.

She fell back onto the ground.

“For that you will need to pay.” Ignis hit the remote controller again. The cuffs pulled her across the floor.

He tightly wrapped his legs around her waist. He grabbed the rope above her wrists.

He’s riding me? She wondered.

He bent forward kissing her along this ride. She felt his erection at the base of her stomach. His weight confused her psyche. But it was the drag of her body on the floor that pained her most.

The cuffs were now lifting her up from the ground. As her body was halfway up her arms and shoulders began to burn from the full weight of his body tight against her. She yelped.

She tried biting him but the lace and leather strapped prevented her teeth from doing any damage.

She flexed her muscles and held strong. He looked lean but he was still heavy.

They both dangled from her cuffs together, spiraling in the air, her body ever confused and stimulated and pushed.

She let out a painful grunt. He knew it was too much now. He finally released from her and dropped down. He stopped the pulley just enough for her feet to plant firmly down.

She breathed a sigh of relief; coughing also. He undid the leather strap from her mouth, undoing the gag, a trail of spit sliding down with her lacy underwear. She saw his erection blatantly pointing at her. She tried to make a quip but she couldn't stop coughing.

He lifted her chin. “I’m going to do something I could never do with anyone.”

She spat at him, most of it landing on his glasses.

He took a breath and slid them off his face.

Just when she thought he was simply going to clean them, he tucked them into the keyhole of her bra between her breasts. She kicked at him. He grabbed her ankle.

“I think it’s good I’m only mildly near-sighted.” He dropped her ankle and approached her. “I can still appreciate everything I’m seeing right in front of me.”

“Dick.” She grunted.

He smiled.

He kicked her ankles apart spreading her legs. He placed his hands on her pussy. She moaned.

He spread her pussy lips. She thought he was going to finally take the damned thong off. To her horror he lodged the thong even tighter against her, making sure it was securely held in her crevice.

He spun her around. He did the same motion from behind; spreading her ass cheeks and yanking the thong high into her crack. She screamed.

She saw him grab the end of the chains. He waved the tail end of it at her. It was a hook.

“Oh you sicko” She shouted, but laughter echoed in her shout.

“Oh, are you scared?” He taunted.

“You sick sick fuck!” She screamed, again with a hint of laughter behind her words.

He took the hook and dragged it along her backside. She writhed and kicked.

He latched the hook to the back of the thong.

She heard him press the controller. She saw the long pile of chains moving slowly. It was a very large pile. He was prolonging the torture making her watch the pile unfurl, rising up into the ceiling.

“Let’s take you high into the sky, Red Sky” he said. 

She shifted her hips bracing herself; thinking maybe she could position the thong in a way that wouldn’t be so unpleasant.

Before she could make a plan, she felt a hard smack on her buttocks. Then another. Then several fast ones in succession. She threw him an expletive with every blow.

He knew she was the type of person to think several steps ahead to counter him. He wanted to keep her on her toes figuratively. Soon literally.

The pile of chains was halfway up. She could already feel the vibrations of the chains latched onto her thong.

He stopped smacking her buttocks and stepped in front of her. He raised his hand. “You are so wet my hands are already damp. You sopped through that tight thong.”

The chains were no longer a pile. It was a single long strand, like a snake uncoiled slithering away. But the snake was ready to strike now. She whimpered in fear.

“Breathe.” He said commandingly. She looked into his eyes.

Then for a moment he dropped the act. He nodded and smiled encouragingly. “You can do this…”

He had never dropped his act before. He must have sensed her fear. She felt a drop of sweat roll down her neck. She knew she could trust him. She gripped the loose portions of the leather cuffs with her hands tightly.

His last four words reverberated in her head. She was getting lost into his eyes. He was always so calm, cool, collected, and also mysterious, scheming and dangerous.

He reached a hand under her chest and massaged a breast, more for his delight than anything else; his glasses still dangling in between. She felt herself being hoisted up. At first it was no more than a simple tug. Her feet were still flat on the ground. She didn’t know how high up he was going to take it.

She was not one to be afraid of heights, but for the first time she feared the sky.

She could no longer hide the wetness coming out of her. They were already on his hand. There were about three or four good streams flowing down her thighs. She felt one of them had streamed all the way down one of her calves.

She felt her hips behind pulled upward.

It was a slow pull. Her body was slowly bent in an L-shape as she clung to the leather cuffs. Her thong stretched pulling into a tight wedgie by the pulley.

She always heard of this and seen pictures of but never thought she’d experience it.

She finally felt the thong cut into her clit. The pain slowly vibrated into her from her clit more than her ass.

She closed her eyes trying to get her mind off the pain. Her heels were saving her from the worst of it. But he was not stopping the chain.

“Look at me.” He palmed her chin making her look into his eyes. "Feel it for me. Don't break away."

He saw her eyebrows turn almost as if she was begging him to stop. But she didn’t say the word. The safeword he promised he would uphold no matter what.

She was getting wetter. Her clit was pulsating.

“Don’t cum yet.” He ordered knowing she was feeling the great stimulation on her clit by now.

Her knees wiggled. Soon she was on tip toes; her heels no longer her saving grace.

She moaned loudly, near screaming.

He saw her legs straightening. Her grip on the leather cuffs were tighter, her biceps and forearms working hard to counter the weight.

Finally, it happened. Her toes lifted; no longer touching the ground. She swung forward towards him.

Her clit was burning, her sensitive flesh being unmercifully punished.

She stopped screaming. Her clit was numbed. She was dangling by the mercies of the heavens.

She was concentrating on her breathing, but made sure to keep eye contact.

He was trying to decide whether to watch the rest of the show from the front or back. It was uncharted territory for him now.

He wanted to see her nether regions being challenged. Instead he stayed right in front of her looking at her face.

She looked almost calm as if in a trance save for a tear droplet forming in the corner of one eye. All of her emotions, burdens, sensations focused on her womanhood.

He lifted her chin again. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before but the black hair was a wig. He decided to let her have some bit of control in that aspect by allowing her identity to remain hidden as she was experiencing this heightened state of euphoria and despair.

He wanted so badly to stick his cock into her mouth, but he was just as enraptured by what she was letting her body undergo.

Their silence was interrupted by the sound of fabric tearing. He realized the thong was finally giving way.

First it was one quick rip. Then a long one. Then the fabric could no longer hold. The thong ripped apart crashing her legs onto the earth again.

He caught her ungracefully.

She let out a gasp, a half-yell, as she breathed hard against him.

He unbuckled the cuffs to finally give her some respite.

He undid the torn thong from around her hips, beyond soaked through and useless now. He smelled her sex and sweat.

She pressed her head on his chest. She felt safe there. He lowered her to the ground embracing her with nothing but respect and gratitude in his heart.

He massaged her breasts. It was all he could think of doing. What he witnessed was beyond extraordinary to him.

Their mouths met. Another unplanned thing.

He undid his zipper and took out his cock.

She saw it.

She half dragged herself to it, but he stopped her. “It’s all right. You’ve done more than enough.” He smiled.

She flopped onto his chest from the exhaustion.

He thrust at his cock, smelling her, seeing the hook at the end of the chain dangling on the ceiling with some bits of fabric clinging like some demented mistletoe. He was just as overjoyed by the other part of the torn underwear next to them, as her head softly rubbed against his chest.

“I didn’t…” she stammered.

He turned to her; still playing with his cock. “Didn’t… what?”

They locked eyes. He didn’t think his erection could get any harder until she looked at him through her half-lidded eyes.

“I didn’t cum yet.” She smiled.

He stopped thrusting.

“More…” She whispered. “I want more.”

He positioned himself flat on the ground. He caresses her cheek. “Sit on my face.”

Without hesitation she crawled over his torso. Her sopping sore pussy left a trail along his shirt. He undid her bra finally letting her breasts down. He could see where the underwire dug into her skin.

As she crawled and positioned her pussy over his mouth, he saw a straight pink line over her mound and trailing down to her bulbous clit; red and engorged.

He placed his hands on her sides and lowered her hip until her flesh met his mouth. He laved all the juices flowing out of her. She smelled viciously delicious and tasted so sweet.

He resumed his work on his cock.

He looked up at her as she moaned and groaned. Her perky breasts were bouncing from her heightened sensations all throughout her body. He reached his free hand up to a breast and squeezed her large nipple. His tongue suckled greedily at her clitoris.

He felt her pulsating on his lips.

He thrust at his cock ferociously with his other hand.

“I’m going to cum…” She stopped, biting at her lips. She arched backwards. “I want to cum!”

The deal was that she was to wait for his approval.

His face was drenched in her nectar. He was holding off his own cum. He wanted this to last as long as it could.

“Please!” She shouted. “May I cum!”

It wasn’t a request. She said it as a conviction.

He nodded. She felt him nod.

He felt everything rush out of her, covering his face, his neck and collar. He always wanted a woman to come all over his face.

She screamed at every pulse. She lifted up from his mouth, but he pressed her back down. She was so aroused and so sensitive. He didn’t want her screams of ecstasy to stop.

He finally released, ejaculating across his stomach, soiling his shirt.

She fell to the side somewhere next to him. He was blinded by the sensory overload. He was proud.

He did everything to catch his breath.

His reverie was halted by the ringing of his emergency line mobile phone. It was a distinct ringtone he set. He scurried to it pushing aside everything he was feeling from the haunting delights of Red Sky.

He answered.

“Yes… yes… understood… straight away…”

He ended the call and suddenly came to the realization his shirt was soiled. The awareness took him out of the pleasures of the session. He knew he couldn’t go back to the palace in such a state.

“Sounded urgent.” Red Sky peered around the wall from the small parlor. She was wiping a dampened towel across her body. She looked unfazed by their session.

“It is.” He sighed.

“Well. I had my own emergency call myself,” she said holding up her phone.

Though Ignis knew he had to hurry back to his unexpected duties, he was more curious of her.

“How are you…”

“Okay?” She asked as she straightened her wig. How he never realized it was a wig all this time was beyond him. “Sorry. But, this girl’s gotta run.”

She took out an envelope.

“It was only half the time, so you can pay me half--”

“Hey. I agreed to this number and I came late.” She placed the envelope on the shelf. “Besides…”

She walked to him and gave him a kiss. “You did everything I asked for and I _came_.”

She handed him his glasses. They were bent.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you too much.”

“Hey,” she said as she grabbed his cock.

He yelped from her heavy grip. “Did I say the safe word?”

“Well, I did gag you for part of it.” He tucked his dick back into his trousers. "You seemed like you wanted to say it at the sink."

“I liked that part. That was hot,” she said. She walked to her cloak.

“Red Sky,” he said. “Considering we still have unused time, and you have been more than generous with the gratuity, perhaps I can give you work on your way back to… wherever you’re going?”

She placed her hands on her hips. He couldn’t stop staring at her body. There were pink lines where her thong was and lines under her breasts from her bra. Her lipstick was smeared and her wrists were red from the cuffs.

“Homework?” She asked.

“More like, an exit exam.” He said.

“I have less than five minutes, Four Eyes. Shoot!” She said as if ordering him.

“Yes, ma’am!” He answered with a salute, something he was very much used to doing at the Citadel.

He opened one of the compartments in the room.

She looked around. There were many things she had done with this service, but once she was paired with “Foresight” she knew she found her match.

Soon “Foresight” became “Four Eyes” to her but he never seemed to mind. It’s because he gets to let out his aggression on me, she laughed to herself.

This particular session was something else for her. She completely gave in to him. She never thought she could ever trust her body and pleasure to anyone.

“Respectful,” she said.

“Sorry?” He asked as he gathered whatever he was gathering from the compartment.

“You always respect my wishes. You don’t seem to shy away from my requests. Even when I tell you to shock me. Why?” She asked.

“You are the one in control. I respect your commands. I get to perform what I like to perform.”

“Like a good soldier.”

“Well,” he sighed. “I take pleasure in your pleasures.”

“How many others are there?” She asked.

“I’m afraid that is confidential,” he said.

“Of course.”

She found him interesting. He seemed like a nobleman, but he hardly acted spoiled or pompous. He was extremely respectful, as if he was in a position of service of some sort.

He approached her.

“Well?” She asked, leaning against the wall, her nude body comfortable in his presence.

He opened his palms. They were clamps of all shapes and sizes.

“I will place these on your body. You text me when the last one has fallen off of you.” He said with a smile.

She took one about an inch in width with a purple skull motif. She smirked. She placed her foot on a stool. Her body fully displayed for him.

He smiled and knelt down. He took the one inch clamp with the skull motif and tugged at one of her pussy lips. He slowly positioned it and released.

She sighed. It wasn’t one of the deathly hard ones she used to experience in the underworld of bondage; some tools coming straight from the medieval era.

Ignis was aroused again, but he had to suppress it knowing he had to leave soon.

He took another one and placed it on a nipple. She moaned.

He took two that looked like plastic clothespins. “Bend over.”

Even she couldn’t help but be aroused when he said the two words.

He spread her cheeks apart and lined her vagina. It tickled her. He saw she was getting wet again.

He clasped one of the plastic clothespins on a flap of her vagina. He took the second and mirrored it. “Squat down for me, please.”

She did as he said. He made sure the angles were in a way where she could still sit. It was complete improvisation, attaching the pins to whatever part of her flesh could feel the awkwardness.

Her hips circled as she allowed her body to get used to the sensation. They were not painful but she couldn’t say they were unnoticeable. She felt everything.

He took the pair of nipple clamps chained together and presented it to her. One nipple was already clamped. She wondered what he was going to do.

He placed one on her free nipple. This particular clamp was a little hard, but she took several breaths to adjust to it. She was more curious of where he was going to place the other end. Logic said it should be her other nipple. But he was much too creative for that.

He tucked his hand under her letting her straddle his forearm. He lined his finger from the top of her butt crack and moved forward. He traced over her asshole. She squirmed when she felt the tip of his nail graze the flesh.

He kept moving forward trailing in between the clothespins at her vagina. She squirted a little on his finger as he slid across her hole.

He continued forward and met the one-inch clamp on one of her pussy lips. That one was probably the most uncomfortable for her. It didn’t arouse her and it didn’t pain her. It was just a nuisance.

He then dotted her clit. She knew he found his spot.

He took the clamp at the other end of the mini chain and initially clamped her clit. It was painful. She shook her head. “No… no! Lance! Lance!”

It was the safeword.

He immediately unclamped it. “Are you all right?”

He saw her blush. She seemed almost ashamed to have shouted the safeword.

“I’m fine!” She grunted angrily. She kicked him away. “Here!”

She took the end clamp and positioned her pussy.

“Stop! You don’t have to if it will hurt you,” he said taking her hand.

“Calm down. I’m just gonna modify it.” She said trying to mask her embarrassment.

She took her other pussy lip and clamped it. She wished she could place it on her clit as he intended, but it was too much even for her.

To his wonder, she then walked over to the chain pulley on the ceiling with the thong hanging on the end. She grabbed the end and lifted her legs and spun.

He wondered why she was doing that move, but he was impressed by her prowess. Maybe she's actually a stripper? He thought.

She let go and dropped down and gave a few jumps. She nodded feeling all the clamps melded with her.

“Red Sky, you can forget it…”

“Shut it, Four Eyes,” she interrupted. She wrapped the cloak around her body before he could see. He wanted so badly to see the final results.

“I’m late.” She grabbed the envelope of cash and pressed it into his chest.

She opened the door but immediately closed it. “Look… stay safe. Okay?”

“I will,” he nodded thinking it was an odd way to say goodbye.

“Or just… make sure you get my text.”

“I will reply back.”

Ignis stepped into the parlor to grab a towel. When he returned he saw the window was wide open.

He rushed to it.

There were no commotions at the bottom. But how? He wondered. Perhaps she climbed?

Before he could investigate he got another call. He answered. “Marshal, I am on my way.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Aranea stood at the helm as her ship flew away from Insomnia. She knew an attack was imminent but she didn’t expect it to be tonight.

The pay the Empire was giving her was good. Beyond good, but she didn’t expect to be dropped into the middle of a battlefield.

The Kingsglaive were impressive but the Diamond Cutter the Empire unleashed was beyond terrifying even for her.

She heard about the combat prowess of the Kingsglaive. She almost wished she could take off the clamps from her body as she fought.

It prevented her from fully attacking them; she was happy she didn’t get a kill and still received high commendations by the Chancellor himself.

“You know the course?” She asked her man.

“Straight on back to Gralea, Lady A,” he said as he piloted the ship.

“Good. I’m gonna go to the little girl’s room.”

She half-strolled half-rushed to the tight restroom. She unbuckled her belt and pulled down her leggings. She undid the largest clamp with the skull motif from her pussy lip. She opened the air chute and tossed it out. She rubbed at her mound.

One of the clamps from her nipple fell somewhere in the locker room when she was changing into her gear. The chained clamps were still on her body. She felt lucky the chain didn’t get caught during her fight on the battlefield.

She wanted so badly to take them all off, wait another few hours and text him, pretending she lasted that long. But she stopped herself.

“I am still in control,” she said.

Five hours passed and she was back in the locker rooms in Gralea. The two from her vagina fell naturally from the moisture; slipping off as she took off her leggings.

But the chained clamps were still on her.

Just as she was about to change and step into the shower, the Brigadier General Caligo Ulldor paged her. “Commodore Highwind, report to my office at once.”

Aranea groaned. As much as she was bothered by the clamps she hated the General more.

She rushed to his office.

“Reporting for duty.” She sighed in a reluctant manner. She hated the fact that she was reporting to anyone. When she was first offered the job she was told she was her own boss, but the months leading up changed as did her job description.

He grunted. He knew she was displeased with reporting to him. “Commodore, as you know much is scheduled with regards to the take over of Lucis.”

“Yeah. I got the same memo,” she smirked.

He looked at her stomach. Her chain stuck out from the break between her top and belt.

She noticed him noticing. She crossed her arms. “Is that all you wanted to check with me?”

“We are to take our troops to a Lucian base called Fort --”

“Vaullerey in six months. Got it, chief. Loqi told me. Now can a girl please get her shut eye?” She walked away.

“That’s Brigadier General, to you. And it’s no longer six months. It’s in a few weeks.”

Aranea stopped. “Few weeks? Can we get enough MT ready by that point? Whatever happened to slow acquisition of Lucian territories?”

He smirked. “I see I got your attention for once. Chief Besithia will have the magitek ready.”

“But some of the MT’s were pummeled by the Glaive. Someone like the Immortal Cor can wipe them out with one simple blow.”

“That’s not a concern to be had,” he said. “Keep on the lookout for more… memos to come.”

Aranea nodded. She knew when she had to keep her composure. She wished she was like “Four Eyes” looking calm and collected. She thought she was that type of person, but he could see right through her.

_Your emotions are predictable, my lady._

She blushed as she walked away.

“Oh, and Commodore,” Caligo called to her. His voice was just as skin-crawling as the Chancellor’s voice to her. “Be sure to remain within the confines of Imperial range for the time being. No more dalliances in Lucis until then.”

She clenched her fists.

“You are dismissed.”

She stormed away as best as she could.

She locked the doors of her personal showers.

She threw off her clothes, but careful not to let any of her gears get caught on the chain.

She stood in front of the mirror seeing the bruising from the night before traced on her body along with the bruises she obtained during the ground battle against the Kingsglaive.

She wished she was following her own path. She wished she could stay in that room with Four Eyes for full sessions. Or longer.

She wondered how many clients he had. It was a nice room so he was assigned to a nice room because that’s how good he was, she thought. He must have a lot of clients.

She wondered if there was a way to pay him quadruple his asking price to make sure she was his only client.

_I’m going to do something I could never do with anyone._

She shook her head. That means he has others that he experiments on.

She thought about his face, resting her head on his shoulder. Feeling his caress. Looking into his eyes.

She touched the clamp on her nipple trailing down to her pussy lip. She giggled with a sense of disdain. She hated that this was all she had left of him.

She wanted them to stay clamped on her body. She wanted a reason to keep in contact with him. If I keep them on there's still a reason to contact him, she sighed.

She stood under the shower. She closed her eyes remembering how he looked at her with such pleasure. He looked at my face instead of my ass! She thought to herself laughing hysterically.

He kept telling me to look at him.

Soon the shower oil softened the skin around the clamps. The entire contraption plopped onto puddles on the shower room floor.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

“By the way, really like the new glasses!” Noct shouted as he packed his belongings.

“Oh, I didn’t think you noticed, Noct.” Ignis had the suitcases set up for their trip. He was taking inventory of every possible situation, but at the same time making sure it was not too much.

He knew once in Altissia they could always go shopping for more clothes, but his princely uniform that he would wear at the wedding was something that needed to be packed. Ignis rummaged through the closet. “What are you planning on wearing as we initially set off?”

“Uh. Something from the Crownsguard ordinances, I guess.” Noct said.

“Yes, but what combination?” Ignis sighed.

The phone ringtone went off. One of them received a text. Ignis reached into his pocket, but it was from Noct’s phone.

Ignis sighed. It had been twelve hours. Possibly more. He felt horrible thinking Red Sky was pushing her limits as she usually did.

Everything he admired about her he knew could have a negative effect. He considered she was a Kingsglaive all this time which was why she was able to leave that room without detection. He checked the roster but none of the females fit the match. He even checked the Crownsguard roster, but he knew most, if not all, members of the guard.

A magic user? Perhaps a recruit? He wondered. But judging by her attitude she was far from that of the average Kingsglaive recruit.

“Ignis?”

He looked up. “Yes, Noct?”

“I asked what are you going to wear?” Noct asked.

“Oh well, this, I suppose?” Ignis pointed at his regular suit worn by all of the court attendants.

“What? On a road trip?” Noct asked.

“I don’t see what is the matter. I have this which is standard issue with the same linings of the Crownsguard fabric. I also have my casual clothing of the white stripes. My Crownsguard casual shirt. What more?” Ignis asked.

“Well, you got your cool new glasses. You need some cool clothes to go with those glasses!” Noct said jumping up from his bed.

“Noct, please, let’s try to focus on your attire.” Ignis said. But it was too late.

Noct rummaged through his closet. “I got dragged into a shopping trip with Lady Rowena last week. These were a little too long for me. You’ll like them.”

Noct picked out a purple print shirt with a leather blazer and a pair of crisp denim with skull motif.

“Noct I can’t take these!” Ignis said. “I thank you, it’s very kind, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be proper.”

“Look they have the Crownsguard patent on them. Besides they were really expensive and they’re going to go to waste!” Noct shouted tossing him the printed shirt.

Ignis knew when the prince was on a mission there was no stopping him.

By the end Ignis had to acquiesce to his prince’s wishes. He had never owned clothing that was this trendy and fashionable.

“And your hair!” Noct shouted.

Ignis sighed. “Yes, Noct?”

“When we were younger you used to spike it up.” Noct planted him in front of the mirror.

“Noct!”

Noct put pomade in his hands and ran them through Ignis’ hair. It had been about eight years since Ignis last spiked his hair.

“Noct.” Ignis smiled. “This isn’t about me and my clothes. What is it?”

Noct sighed.

“Everything is so weird right now. Last week Dad had me talk to Lady Rowena about her daughter. And now Dad has me setting out to marry Luna. Then there’s that treaty. If we’re letting the Niffs take over then doesn’t that mean Dad and I are going to give up a lot of, well, I mean…” Noct scratched his hair.

“You’re afraid I will no longer be of service to you?” Ignis smiled feeling touched by the prince’s concerns.

“Well, you’ve been with me all this time and I still don’t know your life, really,” Noct said. “Like last night. You had your glasses broken. What was that all about? What do you do on nights off?”

Ignis took a breath.

_I am part of a community that indulges in erotic fantasies. My clients are usually masochists requiring my creativities in bondage._

“Oh, nothing of import,” Ignis said. He suddenly found himself thinking of Red Sky again. He couldn’t get her out of his mind.

She was not his first client ever, but she had been his only client for the past year.

Ignis looked at the clothes Noct gifted him. “These are very nice, Noct. I shall wear them if it pleases you.”

“Pleases me? They should please you, Specs!” Noct punched him. “You’re way more stylish than you realize you idiot.”

Ignis laughed.

He heard a ringtone.

Noct picked up his phone. “Uh, must be yours.”

Noct resumed rummaging through the closet.

Ignis hurriedly picked up his smartphone and turned on the screen.

Message from: Red S.  
Text: All fallen

Ignis gave a sigh of relief. He was aroused at the thought of her wearing those clamps for all these hours.

I wonder what activities she was doing, he thought. Did she sleep in them? Did she bathe? Did she not bathe until now?

“Noct, I’ll go put these on.”

Ignis stepped into the changing area. He set aside his attendants’ uniform and dressed in the denim.

They were surprisingly very comfortable. The shirt was crisp and fit well over his muscles. The blazer fit well as well. Everything fit well. Everything was well for him. Well, well, well.

Lucis and Niflheim will finally know peace. And I have Red Sky.

Just as Ignis was about to step out, he rushed back to this uniform and reached into the pocket and pulled out a souvenir from last night. It was the tattered red lace underwear with the spider web motif. He tucked it into the blazer pocket.

“We’ll meet again, my lady,” he smiled.

Ignis opened the door. He was met by not only Noct, but Gladio and Prompto as well.

“Whoa! Look at this guy!” Prompto shouted snapping a photograph with his camera.

“Lookin’ boss, Boss,” Gladio cheered.

“Stylish as always,” Noct hooted.

Ignis crossed his arms. “All right. There’s still much to be done.”

As he packed he reconsidered what he does on his nights off.

_I am in a partnership with the most exquisite and mysterious woman that respects my creativity. She is strong, bold and utterly beautiful. I hope you meet her someday, Noct._

Ignis took out his phone to reply to the text.

He wanted to write to her: Red Sky, whatever your name is, world peace has come. To mark this occasion and the new life to come I wish to have you in my life, outside of these sessions. I think you feel the same. No other woman could measure up to you. Won’t you please consider having me?

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Aranea walked into her boarding room, her hair and body wrapped in a towel.

She heard her phone vibrate on her nightstand. “Finally.”

She picked up the phone.

Message from: Four Eyes  
Text: Til we meet again

There was a knock at the door. “Memo updates!” The delivery boy shouted as he slid it under the doorway.

She picked it up and read the heading: “Insomnia Attack at Treaty Signing”

Her heart sank. She wanted to write to him: Insomnia is going to come under attack. Need you to get out of Crown City ASAP. I’ll pick you up. We can run away together. I don’t care what my bosses say. You and I can live outside of these war games. I may live in the sky but you took me higher than I ever thought I could go. My name is Aranea. What’s yours?

Aranea sighed. She picked up her phone and deleted all of their message exchanges and his number.

“See ya, Four Eyes,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needed a break from writing sad angsty ignoct romance. This is my first attempt at writing bdsm using established fandom characters. Wanted to use two sexy and strong characters like Ignis and Aranea and I wanted to go all out with the kink (go big or go home, eh?). Still haven't decided on adding more chapters to this because I think it works fine as a one-off. If I do a next chapter then it will go into in-game canon territory.
> 
> 13-Aug Update: I WILL do additional chapters. At least one. Can't let my only bdsm be wedgie kink!
> 
> 15-Aug 7:00am PST: Heavy edits on descriptions. Added more inward dialogue, especially for Aranea. Cleaned up some grammatical and spelling errors.


	2. Quittin' Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noct and his companions infiltrate Fort Vaullerey and is ambushed by a mysterious dragoon. Ignis finds there's something familiar about her. Aranea and Ignis clash and recount their first session.
> 
> "She allowed herself to fall, but he caught her."

Chapter 2: Quittin’ Time

 

She was a threat they never anticipated.

Gladio was too slow to land a good strike. Prompto could not make a good aim. Ignis could not throw his daggers far enough.

Only Noct could make any contact with her weapon. Ignis watched Noct warp into the sky and clash sword with her lance.

They had successfully infiltrated Fort Vaullerey but all was not going well. They lost their target: General Caligo, the MT’s were aware of their presence and now this mysterious woman in daemon tech armor literally flew down from the sky.

Ignis wondered how she was able to move with all the armor. Her lance had a special engine attached to it giving her the ability to leap high into the air.

He thought she was a daemon judging by her prowess, but she was a bona fide dragoon. He had only read about dragoons from stories of old. He never thought another would ever exist in the modern age considering human’s natural fear of great heights. But here she was soaring without a trace of fear.

She was clearly taunting Noctis.

“Just keep your calm, Noct!” Ignis shouted at him. He didn’t know if he heard him. Noct leapt and warp-struck into mid-air catching her from jumping again.

Finally Gladio struck her with his greatsword. It was hard, but she was far from hurt. It was enough to slow her down. Prompto took a few shots. Her armor fended off all the bullets, but he saw her stumbling.

She kicked them both away. She then jammed her lance to the ground and charged it. A puff of colorful smoke burst out. That was the tech, Ignis realized. She was revving the engine to leap again.

Ignis helped Noct up from the ground. “Time to overwhelm her with everything we got!”

Noct readied his weapon.

“Now’s our chance!” Ignis instructed the team.

They all knew what that meant. They took out their potions to increase their mettle. They often hated doing that due to the after effects, but it was the only way.

They charged at her striking from every angle. For a moment it seemed nothing was working. But finally her lance disappeared.

Ignis swung his spear at her twice.

“That hurt, you dick!” She kicked him hard in the gut. But instead of falling back, he stumbled forward on top of her.

His head crashed into her helmet. They were face to face. “Nothing personal… my lady.”

Their eyes met.

It can’t be, he thought. The rare silvery sage green eyes beamed at him. Her helmet no longer looked like a dragoon helm, but like a spider web, and those same eyes peering through the web.

Ignis could hardly believe it. “You're alive...”

She punched him. It was bad. The armor on her gloves was sharp. His glasses flew off his face.

She leapt at him and struck him with several kicks and jabs. Ignis couldn’t breathe anymore. She was just too fast and too strong. But he was also mired by her eyes.

She sat on his stomach and grabbed his collar. She raised her fist once more.

He looked at her.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Aranea wanted to make sure he felt every kick and punch.

She was more bothered by this fellow, the King’s Advisor, more than any of his men. She was briefed about him by the Chancellor himself.

“Don’t be fooled by his bland and nondescript mannerisms. He is the most dangerous of them all,” he said to her through the wires.

“Looks like a nerd with a funny sense of fashion to me,” she said seeing the photograph of him from Galdin Quay dressed in designer wear; quite fancy for a mere attendant to the king.

“Commodore, he has the same level of dexterity as you. Unlike the Sworn Shield who will simply use brute force, he has been the personal bodyguard of Prince Noctis for several years. He is quick and dexterous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aranea said. She kept looking at his photograph. There was something familiar about him. He looked a little like Four Eyes, but Four Eyes was usually dressed in a mild mannered style. Four Eyes’ glasses were darker and he had a bland hairstyle compared to the man in the photograph next to the prince.

Aranea finally got the upperhand on the fellow. She sent both him and his glasses flying. She leapt forward.

She stomped on his back, she kicked at his ribs, she punched the side of his head. He was somehow still taking it all. She kicked his stomach.

He grunted hard, his air releasing from his diaphragm. He rolled on his back. She pinned him down and sat on his stomach.

She grabbed his collar and lifted him up. “Oh, you’re going down, buddy.”

She geared her lance. Better to kill the advisor now, she thought.

He looked at her. She shuddered.

His hair was down. Without the glasses on his face she saw clearly it was him: Foresight.

“Four Eyes?” She whispered.

“Red Sky. So it is you.” He muttered. “You're alive.”

All this time that man she was requesting through the services, once every other week or every three weeks, exchanging texts, telling him everything she wanted done to her, was the personal attendant and advisor to Prince Noctis. She felt sick.

Then she felt angry. Was he a spy? Was he taking notes on her all this time? Did he report to his superiors every deviant thing she wanted out of her sessions? She wondered if that’s why he was always able to deliver on her requests. He was always disconnected, simply performing his duties for the king.

She needed to kill him. She conjured her lance.

“Red Sky.” Ignis coughed. “Have you been an Imperial the whole time?”

_Whole time._

Whole time, meaning, all my life? Or whole time, meaning, the year or so in their sessions?

Well, not part of the Imperial Army the whole time, she wanted to say. But I have been a mercenary the whole time. I am a citizen of the world, independent from any nation, who follows the good money. And the Empire was paying her good money.

She shook her head. If he’s asking me this then he never knew. He is not a spy. Or is he pretending? She had made many kills before so she knows the last-minute pleas men cried before they met their ends.

What’s another kill? She thought.

She looked at him.

Killing him would mean big money for her. Without the advisor King Noctis would be aimless. He would be easier to kill by that point. The others? Well, the others are of no match.

Yet she couldn’t plunge her lance into him. Just a quick strike, she thought. The head? Jugular? Gotta make it quick. But why? She wondered. Why don’t I want I want to make him suffer?

Her hand shook.

“Sky… have you been an Imperial the whole time?” He whispered again.

Aranea thought about _the whole time._ She shuddered.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

One Year Ago

 

“Listen,” she said to the man who called himself “The Agent”. She was in his office after a session gone wrong. “These so-called doms think they are that. But none of them have delivered on anything I ask for.”

The Agent shook his head. “If you are looking for a refund then I’m afraid I’m only going to have to pay you back for the unused time.”

“No, dammit!” She shouted. “I was told this was the safest and best place to be.”

“I understand your frustration. But you have only been using our service for six months. It takes time to find the right match,” he said.

“Six months should have been enough!” She grunted.

“Well, miss,” the Agent opened her chart. “You only come by once a month.”

“Once every three weeks,” she corrected him.

“In six months, once every three weeks is not a lot.” The Agent pointed at her history.

“When I pay good money for the initial fees then I expect you to deliver!” She shouted.

“Please, miss, no need to raise our voices.” He said.

She hated when anyone, especially men, said that to her.

“I understand you used to frequent, well, independent establishments for your needs before you started our services?” The Agent went over the bullet points of her chart.

“Let’s call it what it was: an underground dungeon ring,” she said. “And what about it?”

“Well, what was it about these underground establishments that you liked?”

Aranea was not one to be shy about her needs. “They always gave me what I wanted and then some. Someone can ask for a good beat down on their ass and they will get it.”

“And why did you leave?”

Aranea sighed. “It can get a little… bad for the health. Several people got really hurt or sick or worse. I want to be someplace where I can trust instruments are, at least, cleaned.”

“You are looking for safety,” the Agent said.

“Look!” Aranea was ready to punch him out. But she knew there was no better option for her than this agency. “Do you at least have someone who can be creative and take orders?”

The Agent nodded. “I may have someone. But he doesn’t fall into your list of preferences.”

“How so?”

“He’s not a veteran. He, too, is quite new. And he is quite young. But he has stellar reviews and his record shows every need was met by the client. He is also known to be quite creative.” The Agent opened his files of his personnel.

“That’s a lot of ‘quites’.” Aranea smirked. “How young?”

“Well, almost a decade younger. And he has only been part of our organization for a year.”

Aranea rolled her eyes. “None of that sounds appealing one bit.”

“Please, consider him. If you are dissatisfied then I can offer you a discount for the remainder of your contract should you choose to stay, or a refund of the remainder should you choose to leave. Whichever you prefer. We want our clients to be happy.”

“I don’t think happy is the word for it. But I know fair when I hear fair.”

The Agent handed her the contact information.

“Foresight?” She smirked seeing his name. “Whatever.”

She saw he was available in two days.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Ignis thrust with his staff at Noct. Noct dodged.

“Now, let’s do Formation Ten,” Ignis grunted.

They were training in the Crownsguard Hall. While Noct trained physical combat with Gladio, his Sworn Shield, it was Ignis who trained him on tactics.

As his personal bodyguard they needed strategies on the best way to protect themselves.

“You think I’m ready for Formation Ten?” The Prince asked, tired and sweating from their near two hours of training. “I’m beat.”

“You can do it, Highness,” Ignis nodded. “Best to practice Formation Ten when we are the most tired. It’s our last chance of survival if no other strategy works.”

Formation Ten was the hardest of their combinations. It required deep trust and precision. They stood in front of a practice dummy.

Noct held the wooden greatsword; Ignis still with his staff.

Ignis would rush from behind Noct and thrust forward. Noct would immediately circle and swing the greatsword from above as Ignis ducked. Once landing the greatsword and ducking to the ground, Ignis would thrust again at the target. Then Ignis would be blind to Noct, but he would immediately duck as Noct would swing the greatsword at full speed onto the target just barely missing Ignis. Without a beat Ignis would swing his staff and strike twice as Noct regained his footing from the last big swing.

They had practiced this combination for three months. Noct preferred Gladio’s method of just fully tossing Noct into every target. Ignis was strong but not a strongman like Gladio.

While Gladio was on Crownsguard duties Ignis was always on duty with the Prince. It was his job to protect him on a day to day basis.

“Noct. I trust you.” Ignis nodded. There was always a fine balance between encouragement and pushing he needed to tow with Prince Noctis.

Noctis nodded. “Go.”

Ignis rushed and thrust at the target.

Noct swung as Ignis ducked.

Noct stayed down gearing up his strength for the big swing in his next move.

Ignis thrust again.

He ducked low anticipating Noct’s full swing and fully trusting Noct wouldn’t cut off his head.

Noct gave a great shout as he swung the entire weight of the greatsword.

Ignis thrust twice allowing Noct to regain his balance.

They did it.

Noct stood in shock. “And… and now what?”

Ignis held his staff laterally. “Well, either the opponent will now be felled, or this is enough time now for you to runaway.”

“What?” Noct said. “After all that it’s for me to run away?”

“If Formation Ten is not going to stop an enemy, then I am your last chance.”

Noct noticed Ignis with his arms wide open, his staff in hand, creating a human fence of sorts against the practice dummy. Noct had never realized that final stance Ignis made was to fully open himself up to the enemy so Noct could survive.

“Specs. Come on. There has to be another combo…”

“Noct,” Ignis stood up and pressed his black glasses back up his sweaty nose. “You are the heir to the throne. I am to protect you no matter what. That is the oath I made.”

“But,” Noct interrupted. “It’s such a waste. You are so, like, smart. Like that formation and all the other combos you do with me. That shit’s creative!”

“A prince does not say ‘shit’, Noct.”

“Whatever. Point is… what’s the point of it all then?”

“I thank you for your kind words about my skills, but as prince, eventually king, that is something you will have to contend with on your own. It’s not like the days of old when kings and queens had dozens of offspring. You are one son. Kings of Lucis have ancient powers that protect the realm from the unimaginable. Our oaths say to protect the king we protect the people.” Ignis walked his staff back to the row of weaponry along the walls.

Noct plopped onto the mat with a look of concern. “How do you do it then?”

“Do what?” Ignis asked as he cleaned off his glasses.

“Live with it?”

“Well, it’s not the easiest thing to think about. Look at the Amicitias. They are Sworn Shields to the Kings of Lucis and they have been for centuries. But look what a happy family they are. They enjoy their lives. For fun they go camping. That’s how they come to terms with their oaths.” Ignis tossed Noct a clean towel.

“What about you?” Noct asked.

“Well, my Uncle and I, and a few in the staff, take cooking courses and culinary tours.”

“Mrs. Barrow talked about that. Your monthly food crawls.”

“There’s nothing more enjoyable than to experience the world tasting the different flavors life has to offer.” Ignis smiled as he stretched.

“But, your uncle has his wife. Mrs. Barrow has her family. What about you? Do you ever think about dating? Starting your own family?”

“Well, I don’t think it’s in the cards for me.”

“What?”

“My duties will prevent me from dedicating my life to a significant other.”

Noct sighed. “I guess I never realized how much of your personal life has been taken up on account of me.”

Ignis smiled. He was touched that the prince was old enough to be fully aware of others and their well-being. He will make a good king, Ignis thought.

“So, what are you going to do on your night off?” Noct asked.

“Oh, just stay in, maybe read,” Ignis said.

“Wanna go to the movies with me and Prompto?” Noct asked.

“That’s very nice, but it will be nice to just have the time for myself.” Ignis took a sip from his water bottle.

“It’s nice to know you’ve been taking time off more seriously these last months.” Noct rolled himself to a standing position. Ignis couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Go on and wash up. Your father is expecting you for dinner.”

“Damn,” Noct sighed. “You cooking?”

“I would, but considering it is your father I’m sure he wants the Head Chef to prepare the courses. Plus you would put me in an awkward position.” Ignis smiled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Noct said. “See ya later.”

Noct ran off.

In so many ways he is still a child, Ignis thought.

As he walked towards the locker room, he checked his phone and noticed a text he missed.

It was from The Agent.

Message from: T.A.  
Text: New client: Red Sky. Contacts and schedule below.

Ignis had a slew of new clients recently. He was apparently receiving positive reviews. Though he thought it unfair given the fact many of these clients wanted a young man to do mild play. He was bored with all of them, but it was still a time he enjoyed spending instead of sitting alone in his apartment reviewing the prince’s schedule. He never could enjoy himself when he was on his own. He always needed a job.

He knew the drill. He saw Red Sky was available the same night he had free. He added her contact and submitted the confirmation.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Aranea sat in a pizza parlor finishing her second slice of pizza. Aranea knew how to spend money, but if there was one thing she hated spending money on was food. A slice of pizza for two gil was fine by her.

Her phone rang. Her hands were greasy, but she didn’t care. She looked at the text. It was from him.

Message from: Foresight  
Text: Available on requested hour. Room information below. Please send your requests and preferences.

Aranea huffed. “So sterile.”

Aranea was already thinking about what to do after she received her refund. She didn’t want to go back into the underground. She didn’t want to go back to the life of hopping the bars and hopefully maybe meet someone who can fulfill some of her sexual needs. She was also not in the mood to start a relationship either.

She was getting paid well working as a mercenary and she knew no significant other would ever understand or accept her.

Aranea thought about what she wanted. Since no one in this agency lived up to her requests she decided to go big with her demands.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Ignis waited in the side room with the other staff as King Regis and Prince Noctis shared dinner together. It was the room where they were ready for any request the king and prince would call for. It was a room full of bored attendants.

Ignis sat close by the doorway listening in on the nature of their dinner conversation.

Weather. University. The night’s recipe. The football scores. All very standard topics.

One of the chambermaids, Till, nickname for Marithilda, skipped to Ignis and sat on the arm of the chair. She was pretty. A year younger than Noctis. She had fallen into the embarrassing rumor two years ago that she was in love with the prince and was left brokenhearted after he rejected her. Still she was chipper.

“Ignis, do you think the prince will ever eat his vegetables?” Till giggled.

Ignis smiled. “Once in a while I notice he eats at least one piece out of the entire pile the Chef places on his plate.”

“When will the prince ever learn?” Till put her hand to her mouth. Ignis found it charming.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t join you and Mrs. Barrow for the food tour of the new neighborhood last week.” Ignis said.

“Oh, no worries,” Till said. “Since it was just us girls we ordered tons and tons of desserts!”

“Well, I like desserts. I heard about the chiffon cake using Duscaean oranges at one of the restaurants.”

“Yes! I always thought oranges all tasted the same. But Duscaean oranges are sugary, almost like a very ripe lemon.”

“That sounds lovely!” Ignis said. What a lovely girl, he thought.

She had blonde hair and blue eyes. She had a beaming smile and her eyes squinted whenever she laughed. It was adorable.

“What else?” Ignis asked.

“Oh, there was a saffron lemon oil pasta where the noodles were roughly cut. I’m telling you, Ignis, it was the first time pasta noodles had the same texture as homemade ramen! It really held onto the flavor of the lemon oil and the saffron made the dish smell so wonderful!” Till rested her chin on her hand as she described it.

Ignis wanted to go and experience the cuisine. He decided to take the chance and ask the cute maid. He didn’t want to think marriage, but attendants often paired and married other attendants since only they understood the life they lived and the duties they were sworn to fulfill.

“Marithilda,” Ignis started. “Would you…”

“Oh please, Ignis,” Till laughed hysterically. “Call me Till.”

“Till, would you--”

“Marithilda is my grandmother’s name,” Till continued. “It’s such a mouthful.”

“Till, would you like--”

“I mean, it’s such a high born name. Like Lady Lunafreya.”

Ignis cleared his throat and waited to see if she was done speaking. “Now, Till, would you--”

“All the high born name their kin with these long long names. But my grandmother wanted my mother to name me after her. Marithilda Lucinda Ann Olivenza.” Till sat cross legged on the ground next to him.

Ignis chuckled. “Well, Till, would you join--”

The door opened. The head butler peered inside. “Till, the King requires another napkin and Prince Noctis dropped several pieces of carrots on the floor. Please bring a napkin and cleaning supplies.”

“Straight away, Mr. Norman,” Till smiled. Till tapped at Ignis. “Off I go!”

“’Til we meet again!” Ignis joked.

Till turned around. Then she snorted a laugh. “Oh! Ha! ‘til and Till. That’s me!”

Ignis watched her flit away like a dancing water sprite. She rushed off without hesitation as Ignis often did when he was called for duty. I think I’ll be happy with that girl. Make her Madame Marithilda Lucinda Ann Scientia. Ignis laughed to himself again. That was quite the mouthful.

“How are we, Mr. Scientia?” Mr. Norman stood at the door nudging him.

“Very good, Mr. Norman.”

He was a foreboding man, always serious and married to his work. Mr. Norman tapped at Ignis.

“She talks a lot, but she will make the sweetest wife,” Mr. Norman said in a deadpan manner.

Ignis looked up and realized Mr. Norman made a joke. Ignis wondered if he would become like Mr. Norman someday.

“Companionship is a virtue, Mr. Scientia.” Mr. Norman clasped his hands behind him. A few of the older attendants gave off muted laughter. “Finding the right partner that understands your life to see you through the day makes your daily toils have more meaning.”

Ignis nodded. He was going to ask Till properly as soon as she returned.

Ignis felt his phone vibrate. He took a glance.

Message from: Red Sky

Ignis gulped, but tried to remain calm. He stood and walked to a quiet section of the room. He read the text.

Till entered returning with items beyond the call of duty: three napkins, three towels, and the 1% cleaner fluid to wipe up the mess left by the prince but not strong enough that the smell will overwhelm the room. Mr. Norman took the items and stepped into the dining room.

Till bounced over to Ignis. “Well that’s that!”

Ignis kept reading the text.

“So, Ignis,” Till smiled. “What were you going to ask me?”

Ignis closed his phone and tucked it away. “Oh, would you… tell Mrs. Barrow I won’t be able to make it this week either.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Aranea wanted to cancel, but felt there was nothing else she had going that night. Might as well get something instead of nothing, she thought to herself.

All clients entered individually with the assistance of two large bodyguards to ensure their identities were kept concealed.

She put on her wig in the clients area before entering the elevator. It was a black wig made of human hair that she could style in any manner she wanted. She sewed her mask directly on to the wig.

She chose an eye mask designed with turquoise peacock feathers with purple trimming.

Once exiting the elevator she saw a few other clients walk to or from their rooms with their own masks.

By this point there was an understanding amongst the clients not to acknowledge one another.

Aranea approached her room. She didn’t knock. She entered.

It was just like the other rooms. Layout was slightly different, but generally the same. She closed it and nearly yawned.

He was nowhere to be found. Amateur, she scoffed. But there was one thing he got right.

In the middle of the room was a chair with bars on the back.

She undid her coat. As she opened the collar she felt hands grab them from behind. She turned quickly.

She was startled by his silence more than his actual presence.

She noticed he was young, but he didn’t look a decade younger than her. Just young.

“Red Sky,” he acknowledged, taking her coat and hanging it.

She put her hands on her hip. She was wearing a little black dress with a high neck. Quite modest considering the length went down to her knees.

She wore high heels though they were quite sensible at three inches. She was not one to be shy about running around in heels, but she knew her limits.

“Foresight, is it?” She asked. He was handsome, but plain. There, but not there. It was strange for her to figure him out.

He saw taller than she thought at slightly over six feet. His features were sharp and soft. Again a strange combination for her.

She could see through his plain clothes he had a nice lean build. There was something about a man in a crisp shirt and tailored trousers that brought out the best in them no matter their build.

She also noticed his eyes. They were green, but she couldn’t make out the exact shade due to his thick black glasses.

He pressed his glasses up and approached her.

“About your demands,” Ignis started.

Here we go, Aranea thought, rolling her eyes. That’s all the doms at this agency always said upon introduction.

“Just, do your best to get through some of them,” she remarked.

“Not all of them?” He asked.

Aranea’s ears perked up. Could he do all of them? She wondered.

She noticed him look at the clock. He adjusted his glasses, yet again. It was early. What was he waiting for? She thought.

He reached out his hand. It was time.

He took her hand and led her to the chair in the middle of the room. She faced the chair. He wrapped his long arms around her waist and gently lifted her up.

She tucked her legs into the underside of the arms. Her skirt rode up as she seated herself. He grabbed a strand of rope and stepped behind the chair looking directly at her.

He reached in through the bars on the back of the chair and pulled her hands out. He watched her face, waiting for her reaction.

Other clients often play acted protestation. She was quiet; observing every movement as if critiquing him. He was used to quiet critique on a day to day basis at the Citadel. He kept calm.

He put her wrists together and wrapped the rope around them.

He walked behind her and touched her back. He calculated how he was going to do the next steps. She wore a high neck dress, not easy to simply slip off.

Judging by the way she wrote her requests the dress she chose was all by design. She wants awkwardness, he realized.

He unzipped the back slowly, touching the revealing skin with his other hand. She wore no brassier.

Though her skirt rode up her buttocks were still concealed. He lifted the skirt to see she was wearing a string bikini style underwear. They were secured by dainty ribbons.

Aranea was satisfied so far. Her back was bare but her entire front was still covered, the near turtleneck high front keeping him from completely exposing her breasts to do what she requested.

He ran his hands over her arms and shoulders, her back, her waist, her hips and down to her outer thighs. He rested his hands on her outer tights moving from knee to butt cheeks. It felt good to her. He was gentle, as most of the young ones were from her experience.

She wanted to keep her breathing calm, but couldn’t help but let out a sigh. That’s when everything moved quickly.

His hands gripped the sides of her panties. He pulled at them tugging her buttocks off the front of her chair. The backs of her knees caught the edge of the chair arms, keeping her from falling back. For a moment she thought the chair was going to fall back, but it didn’t. They were probably bolted to the floor.

He kept pulling at her panties making them tighten against her pussy. She moaned. They began to tear away in pieces.

He yanked each piece until her buttocks were completely exposed. The ropes on her wrist secured her from falling back more than her knees.

He spread apart the back of her dress and gave a few clawing scratches. They were not enough to make a mark, but enough to stimulate her senses. He saw goosebumps sprouting all along her arms.

He slid his hand around her ribcage and caught both of her breasts. She was shocked. She didn’t expect him to do it without fully exposing her front. She looked down and saw lots of movement and action under her dress as he fondled them. It looked like he dropped creatures down her dress and they were running all around her shape.

Her arms were getting sore holding her weight by the ropes on her wrist. She wished she could grip onto something, but it was just the ropes bracing her.

He felt her nipples and twisted them.

She moaned. He twisted them in the other direction. It felt good to her.

He noticed her nipples were large. He loved the feel of them as he twisted them.

He teased, tugged, pulled and twisted. Changing up the combination so she wouldn’t predict what was coming next. He watched her body squirming on the chair.

He finally noticed droplets of her juices falling from her; from the edge of the chair where her buttocks were dangling. They landed on the hard ground. He reached one hand out of her dress and ran them down her hips to her bare ass.

It was the first time he was touching her genitals. His fingers immediately caught the wetness from her gaping pussy. She was much more easily excitable than he thought. Yet she was still fighting him. She wasn’t completely letting go.

He knew it was normal for two strangers to not completely open themselves in such an environment, but by the brashness of her requests and her confidence upon her entrance, he thought he wouldn’t have to put up with the struggling.

Aranea didn’t want to give in. She thought perhaps she gave him instructions that were too easy. She didn’t know why she didn’t want to allow her body to fully give in to him.

Nine months ago she was a willing participant to whoever and whatever in those “dungeons”. She opened her body and allowed everything to happen.

The three months she searched for a new discrete place was terrible. She experienced close to withdrawal symptoms. She needed more for her body. Nothing was enough.

But the first six months at the agency were the worst. She asked for a whipping, she got light strokes. She asked to be pushed around, she got silly play acting. What was this place?

To finally feel, on this night, a night she was considering her last night at this agency, was too much for her. This couldn’t be happening, she thought. He was good. Well, so far.

He massaged her entire gaping region. She felt shy, all of a sudden. Her buttocks falling off the chair embarrassed her. She wondered if she looked all right, if her face was contorting in funny ways; she wondered if he was pleased.

Aranea’s hips shook violently from his nipple play. “Yes!” She screamed. It was so good.

His fingers rubbing along her wet pussy was also alarming. That never used to be an issue for her. Why did his fingers feel so good? She thought.

He released his grip and stood up. She felt him observing her.

Her knees and wrists were aching from the weight of her body falling off the chair. She wondered what she looked like to him.

She looked behind her and saw him. He was unbuckling his belt; his own belt.

She didn’t expect it when she wrote it. She almost forgot she wrote it. She took several deep breaths knowing what was coming next.

She heard the belt crack.

She wished she wasn’t wearing the high neck dress anymore. She was feeling the heat weigh her down. The wig was making her hot enough, but the dress was making it worse.

Before she could gather her senses she heard a smack. The sound was faster than the pain she felt pulsating through her body. He landed it right on her bare back. She screamed.

The belt landed again on her back. She screamed again. Another, then another.

She heard him step away and crack the belt again.

She heard a smack and felt pain all across her bare ass. She cried out, her hips shaking. He didn’t miss a single stroke. She heard the whoosh of the belt in the air as each stroke hit her ass. She forgot the number she requested.

Her hands were growing numb from the tension of the ropes. She had to accept the cramps at the back of her knees from the hard edges of the chair.

The belt smacked five more times. She screamed each time. She tried shifting, instinctually thinking she could find a more comfortable position, but he landed the target no matter what.

Another and another. At one point he hit her back and then immediately her ass. He was toying with her. None missed.

He landed a good one that burned.

“Twenty,” he grunted.

Yes, twenty, she remembered. She dropped her head into her stretched arms and took deep breaths. She had forgotten the intensity of a good belting.

She felt his hand caress her burning buttocks. The skin pulsated. He rubbed them.

She felt his hand slide to her pussy again as he inserted a finger deeply. She didn’t fight him this time. His slid a second finger with ease. It was the third finger where she finally felt the width of her pussy stretching.

She moaned; her head still on the back of the chair. He felt him test her width as he spread apart the three fingers. She was getting so wet.

After a few seconds he took them out and stepped in front of her. He was sweating, a little from the temples but mainly from his neck and chest. His right hand was soaking wet from her juices.

He got down on his knees and faced her.

Her face was fighting the stretching of her limbs, sweating from the heat of her dress. He looked her in the eyes.

Ignis noticed she didn’t really make eye contact with him. She looked almost bashful and angry. He took his soiled hand and grabbed her face, just strong enough to make her look directly at him.

Aranea felt the juices wetting the side of her face. She was startled when he stuck all three fingers into her mouth.

“Suck them clean,” he commanded.

She shifted her face. He stuck the fingers in and out nearly gagging her. He rubbed the fingers all across her lips smearing her lipstick with her spit and juices. She spat at him, missing his face, but a small dribble landing on his shoulder.

He smirked. She growled at him. He ran his hand again all over her mouth as he walked behind her, out of her sight.

Aranea smiled. He was really good.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and propped her back on the seat in a comfortable position. She rested her hands finally allowing the dress to slide down her arms revealing her breasts.

She felt him press his hips against her back. Her back and buttocks were still burning from the belting. She felt his erection on her spine. Through his trousers she could tell it was throbbing.

He put his hands on the side of her face and made her lift her chin.

It was an awkward view, but she saw him look down at her.

He gazed down at her shape. She had very feminine breasts and very large nipples. They were glorious to him. He wanted her to feel him enjoy them.

He slid his hands down her face and dragged them down her throat. He fondled her breasts gently catching the nipples in between his fingers on occasion. Her face read satisfaction.

He looked at the clock. They were still on schedule for everything she requested.

As soon as he detected a smile he let go of the gentle embrace and pinched both nipples hard. Her smile faded away. She growled now. He pulled her nipples upward.

But she didn’t fight him. Her hands were still at the base of the chair. Her hips, on the other hand, were circling. She bounced on the seat. She was highly aroused.

He held tight and wiggled the nipples watching her breasts bounce and jiggle.

She finally tried to lift herself up from her seat. He knew the pain was getting to her. He let go of her nipples. She dropped down and rested her head on the back of the chair again.

He finally untied the ropes around her wrists. She massaged her freed wrists but kept her head on the chair. As the last of the ropes unwound and dropped to the ground, she moved her hands to her sore nipples rubbing them.

He stepped behind her and gently lifted her out of the chair and laid her on the floor. She was finally able to confirm that the chair legs were indeed bolted to the ground after all.

She was feeling electricity all throughout her body; her burning ass and back, her aching nipples, her sore and numbed wrists and her cramping knees.

He watched her from the parlor after he grabbed a cool damp towel to wipe away his sweat. He had never gone this far with anyone.

He watched her push herself up from the ground occasionally rubbing one aching part of her body then the other. The dress was still on her but it was more like a loosened potato sack now, instead of a dress. It was arousing to him seeing her touch her nipples and her ass as she smiled.

Then he saw her move her fingers down to her pussy covered up by the dress. He couldn’t believe it. She was masturbating.

He dropped the towel and marched to her. With his foot he shoved her to the ground. “Not yet.”

She grunted. She needed to release.

Ignis sat on her hips to prevent her from touching herself.

Aranea felt his cock was rock hard. She touched his bulge. She caressed it through the fabric of his trousers with great pressure.

He moaned. She was good. But he took her wrist and swiped it away. “You’re not getting out of this that easily.” He lifted her off the ground and stripped the dress completely off her finally revealing her full body.

She noticed him stare at her. It turned her on that he was doing all of these requests and also finding her attractive.

He stared at her pussy. He lifted his index finger and inserted into her. He dragged some of the juices out and circled it around her clit. She moaned and pressed into him.

“I notice you play with your clitoris to masturbate,” he whispered.

She kept trying to press into his finger, trying to get him to make direct contact.

He pulled the hood. She sighed. She wanted him to lick it. She wanted so badly to cum.

She closed her eyes feeling every rotation of his finger. His voice was so soothing and his touch gratifying.

He then stopped abruptly. She nearly whimpered. She opened her eyes and saw him gather ropes from a shelf.

He was committed, she realized. She couldn’t believe he was making it to the end of her requests.

He knelt before her. It would have been romantic, looking like a proposal, if it weren’t for her being completely nude with several red marks on her back and ass.

“Put your legs together.” He gathered the ropes and tied them around both of her knees. She expected a light tie, but he made four revolutions around her knees. Her legs were secured together.

“Hands together.” She did as she was told. He tied her wrists together again. They were still aching from earlier. These ropes were softer than the last ones.

After he secured her wrists he tossed the long trailing strand over one of the rafters in the ceiling. He grabbed the tail end and pulled and pulled. He watched carefully as her arms rose up into the air. He secured the tail end tight enough that she was firmly in place.

He noticed one of her heels was kicked off. He liked the awkwardness of her stance.

She eyed him. He was like a hawk carefully observing his prey.

He adjusted his glasses. He walked behind her and touched the welts on her back. Both butt cheeks were red as well. He touched her butt. It was one of the firmest asses he had ever touched. He preferred softer butts, but her firm butt felt nice.

She was getting restless. “I want to cum. You have to let me cum.”

He slapped her on the ass. She squirmed.

“Behave!” He shouted at her.

Her bound legs kept her from kicking at him.

He was enjoying making her angry.

He walked in front of her and flicked a nipple with his fingers.

“Ow!” She growled at him.

Just as she was about to charge at him, he plunged his hand into her inner thighs. He fondled her pussy. Her mound, her hole, her clit, her lips. It didn’t matter.

She squirmed. He was not at all delicate. She swayed her hips trying to press her weight into his hands.

When his hand was good and drenched by her juices, he moved his index and middle finger to her sensitive clit and pinched them.

She closed her eyes and cried out, nearly collapsing.

He wriggled his fingers. “I have learned the clitoris is not only sensitive but strong. It’s fascinating. It can withstand great pressure and at the same time feel every sensation.”

He spoke slowly while his fingers were moving at lightning speed. She was mesmerized. His voice was terribly sexy for a young man. His fingers moved with persistence.

For the first time she wanted to kiss a dom.

He wanted to kiss her as well. He kept fondling her clit watching her juices literally splash from her bound legs.

“Your body is weak to me.” Ignis whispered into her ear. His free hand pinched a nipple.

She moaned louder. Sweat poured from her head.

Her mouth looked so delicious with her smeared lipstick. He wanted so badly to remove her mask and look at the entirety of her face.

He was captivated. He enjoyed the art of being a dom, and seeing the pleasure of another by his own hands, but this was the first time he wanted to connect deeper with this woman.

He kept his composure. He didn’t want to seem weak to her. This was his paying client after all.

“Don’t cum. Don’t cum.” He knew saying these words always made his clients ready to cum. But this time he really didn’t want her to cum.

He wanted to continue longer. He wanted to undress and take her body with his own.

Her hips swayed. He watched the clock and let a full minute pass as he continued to tell her, “Don’t cum. Don’t cum.”

She did exactly as he commanded of her. Her text did demand that she be withheld from orgasm at the end.

Ignis felt her pulsating. His hands were tiring, but he was terribly enjoying her body.

She finally caved. “Please may I cum?”

Ignis smiled. He didn’t realize he salivated a little. He leaned in and smelled her. He didn’t know why. His nose rested on her neck as he breathed in her scent.

“Please!” She shouted in near tears.

She felt his hot breath on her neck.

Ignis gave a few more seconds. As she whimpered he finally whispered into her ear. “All right. Cum now. Cum for me.”

Aranea felt so soothed by his voice. She released her orgasm, not caring what a mess she was making on this handsome wonderful man’s hand.

Aranea’s mind raced. Feeling his breath against her face and his fervent touch was exhilarating. Who was he? She wondered.

Her knees buckled. The skin of her wrists stretched hard from the ropes above. She was too weak to remain standing.

She allowed herself to fall, but he caught her.

He undid the ropes on her wrist and her knees. They were slip-knotted. How clever, she thought.

Aranea rested her head on his shoulder. He carried her to the chair. This time he rested her gently instead of tying her down.

He dashed to the side parlor to grab towels. He drenched a few of them with warm water.

He looked at himself in the mirror. He was covered in sweat.

He didn’t know what to do at this moment. Usually his clients gave him the cash, thanked him and went off on their way.

He wanted to ask about her. He wondered how she came to be so strong and so insatiable with her desires.

Keep it together, he told himself. He adjusted his glasses, picked up the towels and walked around the parlor.

He expected to see her in the same state, but he was taken aback by her silhouette from the city lights outside.

Instead of slumped over she was seated tall on the chair, legs crossed and lounging one arm on the back of the chair. She kicked off the other heel. She was barefoot and beautiful. It was as if nothing happened to her despite the messied face and few marks of red about her body.

She turned.

For a second Aranea thought she noticed him alarmed by something. In the latter half of that second he cleared his throat and approached. She took the towels without hesitation.

She wiped her torso while he wiped mainly her legs. She took care of the rest.

They were silent though they kept noticing the other glance then glance away.

She smirked. He was young after all.

“Hey Four Eyes,” she said as she wiped.

“Foresight,” he corrected her.

“Whatever.” Aranea looked over at him. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” he answered.

Oh! She thought in her head. Eight years younger than her, not ten. Damn Agent freaking her out. Eight didn’t seem nearly as bad as ten.

He wondered why she was asking. He kept his composure as usual and wiped her legs. They were very shapely and muscular. Her juices covered her entire inner thighs and calves.

“May I say, my lady…”

“Red Sky.”

“Apologies. Red Sky,” Ignis cleared his throat. “I was afraid I had gone too far.”

“Nah,” she blurted. She got up. The welts on her back and buttocks were still pink. “Got an elixir or anything before these things become worse off?”

Ignis pointed at a shelf with a basket of potions.

She took one and burst it. She stretched. He watched the welts disappear to his displeasure. But she was beautiful to watch as she moved.

“Didn’t think you could do everything,” she said as she picked up her purse.

“But you asked for all of those things. Why wouldn’t I?” He asked gathering the towels.

She couldn’t tell if he was being eager or confident. But for once this was the “work ethic” she was hoping to find. She pulled out an envelope. But she re-opened it and seemed to add more cash.

“Here, Four Eyes,” she said. “Your asking price and then some.”

“It wouldn’t be right--”

“Hey. You mind if…” Aranea tried to hide her own tone. She, too, didn’t want to sound eager or too confident. “Let me know your schedule for the next month or so.”

Ignis crossed his arms and nodded. “Of course.”

“Of course.”

Ignis couldn’t tell if she was mocking him or being in agreement with him.

He stayed calm and watched her dress. Her underwear was too torn. “That was unexpected,” she smirked. “Be sure to make that a constant thing.”

Ignis gave a nod holding the envelope in his hand. He didn’t realize he could get turned on watching someone dress up.

He helped her with the zipper. It felt a shame to see the high neck of the dress cover everything. But he could see the outline of her breasts and her nipples through the fabric.

She stepped into her heels and wrapped her coat.

Knowing she had no underwear underneath those layers aroused him. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t stop watching her.

They exchanged no further words. He opened the door and let her out.

Ignis rushed to the bath tub. He unzipped his trousers and took out his cock. He grabbed the oiliest bath oil and doused his hand.

He closed his eyes and recounted everything. Her ass, her nipples, her pussy. But also the way she walked, her voice and her eyes. He stroked his rock hard dick. He never needed to have his dick satisfied more after a session.

Aranea took off her mask and wig. Instead of the ground level, she went to the first floor where the offices were housed.

Ignis remembered the feel of her tongue on his fingers as he gagged her; the way her spit and lipstick smeared across her beautiful mouth. She was stunning to him.

He stroked his cock harder and faster. He remembered how she smelled. He realized the towel she used to wipe herself off was still there next to him. He picked it up and pressed it against his nose.

Aranea checked her face in her compact. She was a little worn-looking but not too shabby. She knocked on the door of one of the offices.

There sat The Agent. “Miss Highwind. Please come in.”

Aranea sat across from The Agent.

“So,” he asked her. “Have you made a decision?”

Ignis lurched forward dropping the towel. He released a burst of cum. He rested his head against the coolness of the tiles.

Aranea opened her purse. “I want to extend my contract. And I want Four Eyes…”

“Foresight.”

“Whatever,” she exclaimed. “I want him as my only man.”

The Agent took out a folder of agreements. “Understood.”

That night Ignis walked through the attendants’ galley. The Citadel was closer than his apartment from the agency.

Ignis filled a cup of ice water in the kitchens.

He heard a pitter patter rushing towards him. He turned to see Marithilda. “Ignis?”

“Oh, Till. How are we?” He asked taking a big gulp.

“Good. I thought you were off for the evening!” She exclaimed.

“I was. I just have early duties tomorrow and I knew it would be best to just come back to the Citadel to sleep.”

“Wow!” She exclaimed. “That’s dedication.”

Ignis refilled the cup of ice water. He focused on cooling himself down. The night was a blur.

The ice hit his nose as he tilted all the way up. He shook his head and realized Till was still talking about something.

“I’m sorry?” Ignis asked in a daze.

“The food crawl!” Till exclaimed. “Next week we are going to Altissia Town.”

“Very good,” he nodded.

“Aren’t you excited? You’re always talking about Altissia.”

He looked at Till. She was so lovely and sweet, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Red Sky.

“Yes, Altissia,” Ignis refilled the glass once more. “Wonderful seafood and... excuse me.”

“Ignis?” Till called out.

Ignis rushed to the Crownsguard Hall. He immediately changed into his training gear. He trained and trained. Daggers, poles, staff, knives; he grabbed everything from the wall of weaponry.

Ignis prided in his professionalism, but the line was crossed somehow. He couldn’t pinpoint where or how. Red Sky was amazing. He wanted to please her. A dom please a sub? But he could tell she admired his skills.

Ignis knew he had to be better. He needed to be more creative. He wanted to impress the one person he felt understood his expertise.

He had to be better. He wanted to be better for her.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Present Day

 

Aranea straddled Ignis. She loved straddling him, but this was different. She held her lance ready to stab him dead.

Dammit, she yelled in her mind. Why is this your real life? She wanted to scream at him.

“Red Sky… Sky…” Ignis looked at her sage green eyes through the armored mask. She was still so beautiful. “Sky… watch out.”

Ignis’ eyes looked to his left.

Aranea looked in that direction and saw Noctis charging at her with his sword.

She braced herself as they both flew across the yard. She attacked him, meanwhile keeping an eye on “Four Eyes”.

Now she knew his name. Now she knew his entire background.

She saw Ignis take a potion and pick up his glasses. She was relieved.

This was too much for her to take.

“Ignis!” Noct yelled. “Formation Ten!”

She saw Ignis hesitate.

“Ignis, what are you waiting for?” Noct yelled.

Aranea was puzzled. Before she could gather what was happening, the Amicitia fellow swung his greatsword at her. She clashed with him. He was truly strong, but it was expected. The legend of the Amicitia Family was known all throughout Niflheim.

But their moves were much more predictable. She dodged him easily. Just as she was about to strike him, she felt something strike her hard.

Ignis hit her with his spear.

Aranea was about to strike back until Ignis ducked and suddenly found King Noctis swing a greatsword at her. She fell backwards. She tried to target the king, but Ignis thrust at her, hitting her armor. Aranea knew she had to kill him now. She raised her lance, but Ignis ducked once more and the king made an even more powerful move on her, knocking her helmet off her head.

She saw the king lose his footing. Ignis then stood up and raised his arm. He looked like he was supposed to have done an extra move, but he halted instead.

She was exposed. Her helm broken off.

Ignis saw her face. She was striking; so much more beautiful than he imagined. He finally saw the brightness of her eyes and her true hair color: snowy blonde.

This wasn’t over for Aranea.

She leapt away and composed herself.

“Aw, is it that time already?” She said standing on top of a rafter.

“What time?” Noct shouted ready to continue battling her.

Ignis put a hand on his shoulder. Aranea noticed. She kept smiling.

“Quittin’ time.” Aranea put her hand on her hips. They were bruised but she didn’t want to show it to these brats. “Sorry, but this girl doesn’t work after hours. I could…”

She kept an eye on Ignis.

Ignis put his head down.

“But there wouldn’t be a single gil in it for me,” Aranea gave a smirk and stared directly at Noctis. “Oh, we should play again sometime, pretty boy.”

Aranea gave a quick look at Ignis before she activated her boots and jumped to her airship.

Ignis stumbled forward. He thought about the times she disappeared quickly. He thought about all the times she showed massive strength against him. She headbutt, kicked and punched him on several occasions.

Prompto sighed. “Wow.”

Gladio chuckled and nudged him.

Noct looked up seeing the silhouette of an airship high in the sky. “Who the hell was she?”

The airship cleared away. Prompto stretched and approached Noct.

Ignis kept staring up in the heavens, thinking about her. He heard the guys talking about Gladio’s sister and how they should go and check on her.

Ignis closed his eyes. 

This whole time? Ignis wondered. Was she an Imperial the _whole time_?

How could she be an Imperial? That exciting woman. The woman who understood him. The woman who finally appreciated him for who he was. The woman he had grown to love.

 

 

To be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter was my way of adding more kinks. I really didn't expect to dive deeper into their relationship and now I'm invested. Initially a one-off and now I am planning four total chapters!
> 
> 17-Aug: Nevermind. It's now 8 planned chapters. I couldn't get the journey of this relationship out of my head. Get ready!!


	3. The Test of The Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis is distraught over the circumstances that lead him to lose General Caligo after the infiltration of Fort Vaullerey. For Aranea, a disciplinary action is imposed on her for losing the fort to Noctis. As punishment she is removed from the front lines and sent to cover an archaeological site in Lucis. Both Ignis and Aranea wonder how much of their secret past is still a secret. - - Flashback of The Agency involving a collection of sex toys called "The Six"
> 
> Ignis: “Well, what did you think of the might of the gods?”  
> Aranea: “I think the gods turned a blind eye just for tonight.”

Chapter 3: The Test of The Six

 

She is alive, Ignis thought. And she is Imperial.

Ignis paced around Old Lestallum. Though the town was colored in Imperial emblems and flags, the citizens were no longer feeling threatened by Niflheim. They praised the unknown young Lucians that infiltrated Fort Vaullerey preventing the Empire from gaining more influence in their nation.

The Imperial flag was all Ignis could see. He felt like a traitor to the crown.

“It’s a shame that General got away!” A citizen cried out about the general King Noctis and his companions wanted to capture to bring to justice.

Because of me, Ignis thought.

Before Red Sky arrived Noctis and Ignis had the general in custody: Brigadier General Caligo.

I had him, Ignis thought. I had him.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Several Hours Earlier

Ignis used one of the dollies at the fort to wheel the unconscious general through the front gates. He called a few Hunters to arrest the general and transport him to Cor.

Ignis felt proud of his king for showing great aptitude in stealth and steadfastness in their infiltration mission.

A captain and king, Ignis thought of Noct at that moment.

As he pulled through the gates he noticed there was something odd. The Hunters’ truck was there, but no hunters.

Ignis pressed forward and noticed three bodies lying unconscious. He rushed to them. They were alive. From the position of their bodies they were taken by surprise. He knew because none of them had their weapons drawn. One still had his hand wrapped around his thermos of hot coffee.

Ignis heard a rustle. He unsheathed his dagger and immediately held it up towards the sound. The dagger barely touched the neck of the man before him.

“Mr. Scientia,” the man said unflinchingly.

Ignis just barely made out the familiar shadows of an elaborate coat and hat, but it was the voice that he recognized immediately. “Chancellor Izunia?”

Ardyn Izunia stepped closer, the blade of the dagger now touching the nape of his neck.

“What has happened to the hunters?” Ignis did not care about the diplomatic relations between Lucis and Niflheim. He was a soldier defending himself before a giant.

“I suppose you have every right to take the general into Lucian custody. There were dozens upon dozens of witnesses seeing him murder that butler,” Ardyn held up his hand to show he meant no arm, but he was still unmoved by the dagger at his throat. “The head butler of Lord Clarus Amicitia’s household.”

“The general needs to answer for his actions!” Ignis pointed at Caligo looking more like a pathetic heap of armor and fabric than a decorated leader.

“Perhaps we can discuss an exchange,” Ardyn said with a smile.

“The time for negotiations has passed,” Ignis said. “The king will not--”

“The king?” Ardyn interrupted. “Nay, not a negotiation with the king. Negotiation with you.”

“Not interested,” Ignis said. “You will both go into custody with me.”

Ardyn laughed. “You truly are as bold as any highly trained Crownsguard. But I also know you are a careful man. Highly intelligent.”

Ignis ignored him. He looked at the truck and prepared to open the bed and cuff both the general and chancellor.

“You are also a dangerous man. A man who takes charge. Very dominant,” Ardyn gave a snide smile.

Ignis stopped. _Dominant?_

Ardyn ran a hand through his wild hair, his demeanor still undisturbed by the dagger at his throat.

“Pun intended.” Ardyn reached into his coat. Ignis held the dagger tighter to Ardyn’s neck thinking he was reaching for a weapon. “I’m just getting something out of my pocket. Not going to harm you. Just a little token I wish to return to you.”

Return? Ignis thought. “What?”

Ardyn tucked his hand into his breast pocket. Ignis didn’t realize he had pockets at all no thanks to the elaborateness of the chancellor’s garments.

Ardyn held up something small, no more than an inch in width. “For you.”

Ardyn tossed it at Ignis.

Ignis caught it easily in his free hand. He held the object under the light. It was a black clamp with a purple skull motif.

Ignis’ mind immediately went back to the last session with Red Sky. He remembered placing that clamp on her at the end. “Where did… how did…”

“She is an extraordinary woman, isn’t she? Sensual without effort. Courageous. Strong.” Ardyn pushed away Ignis’ dagger softly.

Ignis felt sick. He pointed his dagger back up to his neck. “What have you done with her?”

“She is well. She is with us,” Ardyn said. “If you hand the general to me I assure you she will be safe.”

“And how do I know this is not another scheme of yours? How do I know she is still alive?” Ignis shouted.

“I suppose I can’t. You will just need to have faith in my words,” Ardyn said.

Ignis sighed. Knowing Red Sky was captured made him nauseous.

She is captured because of me! Ignis thought about an Imperial spy following her after their session. He thought about her being taken. The only way the Chancellor possessed the clamp at all was likely due to her being violated in some way.

Ignis remembered the texts from her letting him know that her clamps had fallen off of her.

It’s no wonder she responded after several hours! Ignis realized the Empire knew of his secret life outside the Citadel.

As if reading his mind the Chancellor added: “And I won’t tell the king of your private life.”

Private life? Ignis thought. He considered his private life the one he led in the palace; being responsible of the security of the prince and the knowledge he was privilege to as an attendant to the royal family.

The life at the agency was more than private; it was covert, furtive, personal. This was personal. Ignis’ mind raced. What would happen if Noctis found out? If Cor, Monica, Gladio, and Prompto learned?

Ignis unsheathed his dagger and pushed the dolly with the sleeping general to Ardyn Izunia.

“Very wise, Mr. Scientia,” Ardyn said. “And, as I mentioned, I assure you, as soon as you rejoin the king and your fellow men, the woman will be released upon you.”

“She is here?”

“Oh yes. Braving the skies,” Ardyn said grabbing the handles of the dolly.

“I know this will not be the last we will encounter you, Chancellor.” Ignis turned his back on Ardyn. He looked at the hunters on the ground already feeling guilty to have brought them into this situation. “If you are lying… if she is at all harmed…”

“I am a man of my word.” Ardyn rolled the general away like a hunk of meat slab on a grocery cart.

Ignis watched him intently, but most importantly, he ran through scenarios in his head of what to tell Noct and the others once Red Sky was in their care. He hoped Red Sky would want to keep their secret.

He didn’t rush back in the fort. He helped the hunters back up and provided them with potions.

“Whatever hit us came outta nowhere!” One of them said.

Ignis didn’t listen. He was thrilled to be seeing Red Sky again, but he didn’t know why he hesitated. Knowing his two most important people in his life would finally meet was overwhelming. Noct and Red Sky. The Citadel and The Agency. His real life and his false life.

But she was hardly false. His feelings weren’t false. This was a woman he had grown to love. This was a woman he forced himself to stop thinking about once their survival mission truly began. This was a woman who was in danger.

He thought about her walking in the room at the Agency, her eyes beaming through her different masks.

“I will finally get to see what you really look like!” Ignis said aloud as he returned to the fort.

But it was not anything he had hoped for. He expected to rush to the arms of a frightened damsel. Instead they were met by a one-woman onslaught.

Ignis didn’t know whether to thank the gods or pray for them to intervene. Knowing the Chancellor of Niflheim tricked him; knowing that the woman he had deep feelings for was a deadly Imperial, a wave of shame draped over him.

Ignis decided to withhold his knowledge of the Dragoon from his friends.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Aranea’s ship: Present

Aranea washed her face at the sink. She looked up at the mirror. She pictured Foresight standing behind her, caressing her body and removing her clothes.

Her ribs hurt terribly from the combat she endured against King Noctis and his companions. She underestimated them terribly.

She used another potion hoping the pain would finally cease.

She rushed back to her loft in the ship. It was a small alcove designated just for her with a cot and barely a desk. She opened the files she received from the Chancellor.

She looked through the intelligence gathered for the King’s personal attendant: Ignis Scientia.

There were several pictures of him. She cursed at herself for not immediately recognizing Foresight. “Dammit, Four Eyes.”

It was plainly him. As fashionable as he looked in the photographs there was still something about him that made him seem ordinary. The king was the king. She could recognize a celebrity from anywhere. The Amicitia fellow was humongous. He was hard not to miss. The blonde one was small but there was an energetic personality from his photograph alone.

Maybe that’s what made him a good attendant? Aranea thought. She recalled the maids and butlers at the Imperial palace in Niflheim. She recalled the attendants at the palace in Tenebrae. They were there and not there. Seen and unseen.

She looked through more of his record. She wondered if there was anything about The Agency. Imperial intelligence was good so she thought there must be more.

She perused blocks of his biography.

_Nephew to the Head Attendant at the Citadel. Appointed attendant to the prince at a very young age. Early graduation from his A-levels. Top scores at the military academy. Official advisory appointment to the prince his sophomore year as Crownsguard._

Someone this well-decorated and this close to the prince should have been more known to the Empire, Aranea thought.

_Advanced level skills in combat. Primary weaponry in knife and staff._

Aranea chuckled. Of all the weapons, she thought.

_Personal life: No known relationships. No known social acquaintances outside of Citadel staff._

There were no further details. The next page was regarding the plebe with blonde hair.

Aranea scanned through more of the file. Something was missing. Agitated she tossed the files aside.

She began to laugh hysterically.

“What is it, Commodore?” One of her men, Biggs, shouted from below.

“How far until we reach the rendezvous point?” Aranea called out.

“Not much longer, Lady A,” he announced.

“What is it called again?”

“Steyliff Grove.” Biggs answered.

Aranea knew the Empire wanted immediate investigation and research into the archaeological sites of Lucis. Due to her failure to capture King Noctis she was given grunt work and all military duties shifted to the new High Commander Ravus Nox Fleuret, the Oracle’s brother.

“I’m sure for the High Commander my duties is grunt work,” Aranea scoffed.

“What was that about the High Commander, Lady A?” Biggs asked.

“Do you find his promotion a bit suspicious?” Aranea asked.

“Rather fast considering his injury at the Citadel.”

“Yeah I know. He didn’t exactly follow through with orders either. And he is the Oracle’s blood brother.”

“If I were the Chancellor I’d think there’s something shifty about Lord Ravus,” he said.

“Yeah. Then again Ravus Nox Fleuret hates Lucis as much as the Emperor hates Lucis.” Aranea crossed her arms. She had nothing against Lucis. If they paid her as handsomely as the Empire was paying her she would have fought on their side. But she liked being at the winner’s table.

“Did you see the way the little king moved?”

“I thought you were a goner for a sec, milady.”

“I’ve seen the Kingsglaive, but a lot of them still had their limitations. But I had never seen that power up close. I gotta admit he kept me on my toes. He switched fighting style with each weapon he conjured,” Aranea slumped on a crate next to Biggs.

“I was there the day the Empire attacked us in Tenebrae,” Biggs said. “I was lucky I was spared. Being a footman from a poor family helped. I was hiding in some bushes and saw King Regis fight. I had never seen anyone warp before. And tonight, Prince Noctis moved just like that, only…”

“Only what?” Aranea asked kicking off her boots and lounging on the crate.

“Only faster.” Biggs said. “Prince Noctis--”

“King!” Aranea corrected not knowing why she was saying it angrily; honorifics was hardly an importance to her.

“Sorry. King Noctis, well…” Biggs started. “King Noctis is faster than the way King Regis fought that day. Can’t believe that little boy King Regis picked up in his arms is the same fellow you fought this evening.”

Aranea had almost forgotten the prince was there that day in Tenebrae. Even as a teenage girl living in a boarding house in Niflheim she felt sorry for the little prince and how lucky he was to have a father strong enough to protect him.

“An extraordinary family,” Aranea said abruptly. She cleared her throat hoping she didn’t seem as though she was sympathizing with the king’s family.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Biggs said without hesitation.

Aranea picked up the dossier for Steyliff Grove. “Just what the hell does the Empire want to do at these ruins? Even Lucians seem to steer clear of it.”

Biggs shrugged. “That’s one thing about Lucians. They care more about funding Insomnian infrastructure than the independent researchers and archaeologists that want to study these historical sites.”

Aranea nudged him. “Didn’t know you were so into archaeology, Biggs.”

“Actually it’s what the Chancellor told me when I asked the same.”

Aranea chuckled. “He always has an answer.”

Aranea recalled the first time the Chancellor introduced her to Ravus Nox Fleuret.

“Highwind? Like the place?” Ravus asked.

“That’s right. Highwind,” Aranea retorted. It was likely the first time a subordinate did not stand down from his presence.

“It’s fitting.” He said walking away from her.

Aranea did not let him get off that easily. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He did not turn to her. He merely stopped in his tracks. “There is an old Tenebraean saying: _Don’t stand downwind from Highwind._ ”

Before Aranea could attack him for the insult, the Chancellor intervened. Aranea declared she would not work alongside the former Prince. To have her stay, and to quell her temper, the Chancellor offered her more money.

Aranea wondered if the higher pay was worth the High Commander’s daily condescending insults. She knew her value and she knew she was to be trusted better than the Oracle’s brother.

“Always a masochist.” Aranea muttered.

“What about a machinist?” Biggs asked.

“Nothing.”

In truth Aranea was glad she was being sent to do some grunt work instead of being on the front lines fighting against King Noctis and his team. She was trying her hardest to forget about Foresight.

She kept thinking about the way he looked at her. _“You’re alive!”_

He must have thought I died during the raid on Insomnia. I’m sure he tried to call me and got nothing but a busy signal. For all he knew I was a Crown City girl, Aranea thought.

She felt a slight sense of satisfaction thinking about him looking relieved to see her. He even warned her of the king’s attack.

It was the first time she had seen him fluster. She was only ever used to seeing him so calm and composed in all twenty-seven of their sessions.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Past Insomnia: The Agency  
Session Thirteen

 

She submitted her shortest request so far.

Ignis was surprised. She booked a great deal of time, but her request was sparse compared to the elaborate amount of detail she wrote for their first session. Every session after her requests became shorter and vaguer.

She didn’t want to admit she liked his imagination. She leaned against the faux fireplace mantle. She wore her most comfortable eyemask that held her wig the tightest. She was game for anything. With this mask he could put her in any position and the thing was going to stay put. For her dress she wore a classic little black dress with a high slit.

She noticed a package on the mantle. “Special delivery?”

Ignis was halfway rolling up his sleeves. “In some ways, yes.”

“Care package from a happy customer?” She asked but deep down asking herself: Why the hell am I making small talk?

“It’s products testing season.” Ignis answered. He was in a crisp navy shirt tucked into black sacks. “The Agency is partnered with several companies that specialize in adult products.”

“Sex toys?” Aranea joked.

“This time,” Ignis started while crossing his arms. “Yes.”

Aranea snorted a laugh. “What do you mean ‘this time’? Is it never just sex toys?”

“Sometimes it’s prescription drugs that is not yet in market. Sometimes it’s clothing or artwork. Often it’s movies they want us to critique.”

“Were you planning on using them tonight?” Aranea asked.

“Just one of them.”

“Not all of them?”

“I thought about it,” Ignis said approaching the package. “But somehow I didn’t read you as the sex toy type.”

She smiled. He was right in a way. She could hardly use them knowing her room was bugged and spied on by the intelligence team in Niflheim. She was used to the all-seeing nature of the Imperial government, but she knew they wouldn’t see fit for her to have an elaborate toy tucked away in her bedside table and didn’t want judgments made about her.

“I’m game.” She answered.

Ignis adjusted his glasses.

She noticed a small smile form on his face.

“Take a seat.” He took the package and placed them down in the middle of the room.

Instead of the chair, Aranea propped herself up on the bench, a sexy bondage furniture that resembled a type of pommel horse. She wanted to tease him.

Her skirt rode up. She wasn’t wearing underwear this time. Considering he often just ripped them off her, she wanted to surprise him.

Ignis knelt down opening the box. “These are still prototypes, but very close to market quality.”

He looked up at her and noticed she spread her legs apart. Ignis smirked and continued on.

“There are six in this collection.” He said.

“Six different sized dildos?” Aranea left her feet dance in the air as her legs dangled off the bench.

“Not quite.” Ignis smiled looking at her opening.

He readjusted his glasses. “The collection is called The Six.”

“The Six? Like the Astrals?” She laughed.

Ignis didn’t answer. He lifted the first product. It looked like medical equipment or sound electronics. “Behold Ramuh’s Bolt.”

He saw her eyes lift up. “You’re kidding?”

Ignis held up several little rubber pads and what looked like a phone. “Four wireless electrodes that can be placed anywhere. This is the remote control. It can be triggered manually or an automatic timer programmed. There are three settings: buzz, sting, shockwave.”

Her mouth was wide open; flabbergasted and amused. “No way.”

“The electrodes can be placed on an individual or up to four different individuals.” He held up the electrodes like playing cards.

“Go back.” She said, her legs coming back together as she tried to peak into the package. “What’s the difference between buzz, sting and shockwave?”

“Buzz sends a warm vibration. Sting is one sharp shock. Shockwave is both Buzz and Sting simultaneously running three times per trigger.”

“Okay.” She nodded with a bewildered look. “You got my attention.”

Ignis gave off a small laugh. He put the device down and lifted the next. This time it was a small red vial containing some sort of liquid.

“Meet Ifrit’s Burn.”

“Huh?”

Ignis twisted off the top. “It’s an oil that can be rolled on. The oil is a spice blend. The sensation grows with each application.”

“Hot sauce?” She spat. After a pause she added. “How hot?”

“I tested it on myself. One roll sent a warm tingle, like the aftermath of a mosquito bite. Two rolls had a definite burn. Three rolls, well, it hurt.”

Her face looked displeased.

“But not to worry,” he said. “Even at five rolls the sensation went away in a few minutes.”

“Few minutes, eh?” Her face had a look of approval, but he knew there was still apprehension.

Ignis moved on and lifted what looked, initially, like a snake. “This is Leviathan’s Fins.”

He uncoiled the snake to reveal a handle on one end.

“It’s a whip!” She exclaimed. “But what’s so new about that?”

“It’s in the shape of Leviathan and on the sides are tails that resemble her fins.”

“So it’s like a flog?”

Ignis lifted the package and read the side. “And it says the pain is greater after immersing in water.”

“I see.” She smiled.

This time he pulled out two phallic objects. He held up what looked like a dagger and the phallic end looked like it had ridges. “This one is called ‘The Draconian’.”

He held the other phallic object that looked like a literal piece of rock. “This one is called ‘Titan’s Fist’.”

“Two dildos?” She asked.

“Titan’s Fist is a vibrator.” Ignis switched it on as it violently shook in his palm. “I suppose it can be used as a dildo?”

“Hand me the Draconian,” she said holding up her hand.

He tossed it to her. She caught it and immediately noticed the dildo was a sword after all. There was a hilt and a blade. The blade was the actual dildo measuring nine inches in length and two inches in width that had a slight curve at the tip. The ridges were scales. “Well I’ll be, a dragon scale dildo sword.”

“Fit for Bahamut.”

Aranea held the hilt of the “sword” and twirled it in her hand. She pointed at him. “I dub thee, Sir Four Eyes.”

She leaned at the edge of the bench and crossed her legs, the slit of the dress still revealing a great deal of her. She playfully tapped the end of the Draconian at the side of her face. “So which one of these were you going to use on me?”

“I didn’t show it to you yet.”

Aranea counted and realized he only displayed five.

“Wait,” Aranea said counting with her fingers. “Ramuh, Ifrit, Leviathan, Titan, Bahamut… Shiva!”

Ignis was enchanted by her amusement. He lifted the last item.

“Shiva’s Diamond Dust.” He said lifting up what looked like a string of crystals.

“I don’t get it,” she said still tapping the end of the dildo at the side of her face.

He approached her close. His eyes were locked onto hers. He closed in on her, his hips touching her knees on the bench.

She realized it was a piece of jewelry. It was underwear made entirely of stringed crystals. She touched at it.

“Of all the toys,” she asked. “This is the one you chose for me? Panties?”

“Think about it, Sky,” he said as he turned them inside out. “No special padding, no piece of fabric. It’s entirely of stones.”

She looked into his eyes. She had a coy look about her, the dildo tapping on her side.

She hit the sword dildo on his shoulder. “These products are sacrilegious, you know!”

He smiled and reached down with one hand, taking an ankle and extending them out. “Do the gods speak to you?”

He put one opening of the crystal panty over her heeled foot.

She let him. “Yeah. And we are so going to get the judgment.”

“We’ll ask for pardons afterwards,” he said adjusting the crystals.

“And to think I came today with no panties on only for you to put one on me.” She extended her other foot.

He slipped the other opening over her other ankle. She already felt the texture of the strings of crystals on her skin. He slid them towards her knees slowly dropping her feet down.

“Laundry day?” He asked sliding the panties over her knees.

Goosebumps formed on her skin as she felt the tingle of the crystals against her thighs. “I think you’ve ripped all of them now.”

With this other hand he slid her off the bench. She let him.

He pulled them up, finally making contact with her female parts. She could feel the edges of each crystal against her already moistening lips. He tucked the rest of the panty over her buttocks.

“How do they feel?” He asked eyeing the pretty crystals over her beautiful hips.

“Cold.”

He stood up and rubbed her mound, feeling the crystals against his palm. She closed her eyes as he gently massaged them.

He leaned his mouth to her ear and whispered. “Care to tango?”

Aranea smirked. “That’s why you asked me last time?”

He held his left hand and took her right hand. He lifted his right hand off her mound, disappointing her. But he slid his right hand behind her back and pulled her in. She placed her left hand behind his right shoulder.

“I learned the tango is all about the man’s walk. He is leading his lady. Showing her off.” He said. He stepped forward, she stepped back.

“Oh!” She exclaimed feeling the strings immediately scratch into her pussy lips.

“Already giving in?” He asked.

She looked him in the eye. She wasn’t going to back down. She caressed her foot against his leg. She slid her toe around his foot.

He found the opening and stepped forward again as he lead her into the first steps towards the mantle. He felt her take breaths knowing she was feeling the beads.

He touched a keypad on the mantle and the music came on.

He continued leading her around the room. As the music livened, he held her aloft as she did her first small kick forward.

She yelped feeling the gaps of the crystals pinch the skin. Without stopping Ignis continued the promenade. “Look at me.”

She lifted her eyes and stared at his intense face. His sharp eyes were like skewers burning into her. With the same intensity she pressed herself into him.

He lead her about: step, cross, walk, slide. It was in the slides where her skin was able to take a break. Her wetness was growing, easing the harshness of the crystals.

The music turned up into passionate swells.

He saw beads of sweat forming along her chest.

“Pasada.” He said holding up her hand.

She stepped over his foot and raised her leg. She felt one long string tuck into her crevice like a thong. Her eyes went down as all focus of her physiology honed in on that string.

She stopped and performed the lustrada sliding her foot up and down his leg as she sneakily tried to shake her hips to loosen the string.

He pivoted to open her up for more moves.

He moved to a cruce forzado, her leg crossing, each bead digging into her.

He put his left hand behind her right knee and pulled them up. Her left foot was planted on the ground as he leaned her full body towards him. Her spread position gave her a bit of respite.

He then dropped her knee, twirling her and immediately returning to the paso.

Her head was spinning with each step. The crystals were digging into her greatly now all throughout her crevice from her asshole to her clit.

Ignis could see a stream of her wetness pouring down a leg.

“Gancho.” He ordered.

She opened her eyes. She didn’t realize her eyes were closed. From her broken trance she took a breath. This was the move where she was to kick and hook her leg around his leg in multiple variations.

First kick. Pinch. Second kick. Pinch. Third kick. Pinch. She grunted.

He held her up and stepped his knee between her legs. He lunged and lowered her onto him; mounting her on his thigh.

He lunged even lower sending her entirely seated on his leg, her entire weight pressing down on her womanhood as she felt the ruthless crystals pierce into her flesh.

She moaned.

“Look at me.” He ordered again.

She opened her eyes once more locking into his. Sweat formed at her temple. He looked at her face, her eyemask was a nuisance, but her green eyes gleamed. He read peril on her face, but she smiled.

He felt her circling her hips on his leg as she pleasured herself against the crystal and his strong quads.

The night was still young and he had yet to use the rest of the toys. He lifted her up.

“Already trying to cum?” He asked her dipping her. He traced his hand from her neck to her chest.

He rested his hand on her cleavage. He tucked his fingers on the fabric between her breasts and pulled the dress down.

He lifted her into the sentada, having her rest her body. She whimpered a little, disappointed she wasn’t allowed to cum.

The top of her dress slid down to her waist revealing the entirety of her torso. He rubbed at a breast.

“Not yet.” He lifted her up, her legs over his arm and his other hand on her back. “The rest of the gods are waiting.”

He stood her up and slid the dress completely off of her. He noticed the underwear was more than secured into her. He traced his finger over her clit where a line of crystals was wedged. She flinched.

He put his hands under her armpits and lifted her.

She didn’t realize she was back against the bench; the deceitful pommel horse-like leather bench. He plopped her down in a mounted position.

Almost from out of nowhere, he cuffed both of her wrists. She opened her eyes wondering where they came from. Before she could grasp the length, he activated the pulley on the ceiling sending her hands in to the air.

The pulley continued lifting her until her buttocks were about four inches into the air. Her arms were uncomfortable, but her feminine regions were given a bit of respite.

He circled the bench with something in his hand. The shadows concealed everything.

To Aranea he looked dangerous, as if he was ready to shift from sexy dom to a raging murderer. She thought she wasn’t going to be surprised if he turned out to be a serial killer, long on the run from the law, and suddenly decided to stab her to death right there. She found the idea of him having a killer streak terribly attractive.

He caressed her thigh. “You danced much better than I thought.”

“Same with you.” She half-forgot they had just danced.

“Something you learned from finishing school, my lady?” Ignis teased. He already thought she may be a stripper, but he found there was an innate elegance to the way she danced; the type of elegance that comes from someone who had some sort of high-level formal training.

“Guess a few things stuck before I got kicked out.” She joked, but it fueled Ignis’ suspicions of her highborn upbringing.

Ignis lifted his hands and pulled Shiva’s Diamond Dust down, peeling a great deal of the crystals away from her skin. She felt every bead unearth itself from her flesh.

He didn’t completely pull them off. He slid the underwear partway down her thighs. He stuck his finger into her vagina. It completely slipped into her; she was drenched all over.

She loved the feeling of his fingers on her. She felt him slide all throughout her crevice where once the crystals were pierced into her. From her asshole to her mound his fingers slithered.

He stopped at her clit. She felt him wipe a finger. But it was strange. It didn’t feel like his finger. It was smooth and rounded like glass.

She opened her eyes and looked down. He held up the vial of Ifrit’s Burn. She gasped.

“It’s all right. I only did one swipe.” He said playing with the vial in his hand. “You’re wet enough that the oil will spread the heat.”

She felt the effects. Her clit was getting warm; blood was rushing, but there was no peppery sensation yet.

“It will take time to fully take effect.” He said lifting the vial up to her.

She instinctually squirmed away.

“Don’t worry,” he said reading her reaction. “I know your clit is terribly sensitive. Two applications will make you cum and with all this time we have booked I’m not going to let you finish that quickly.”

She put her head down relieved.

“But where would be the fun if I don’t test the product to its maximum intended use?”

“What?” She shouted.

He gripped the underwear around her thighs and pulled her closer to him, keeping her from thrashing.

“Wait. Wait.” She pressed her knees together as a desperate way to protect her slowly warming clitoris.

She braced herself. He moved the vial closer to her.

But instead of her clit, he rolled the oil elsewhere; her nipples.

“One roll.” He whispered as he swiped. He did another. “Two.” 

She felt the rush of blood and the immediate tingle on the second application. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or horrified. This wicked mind game was a lot.

He’s good, she thought.

“Three.” He rolled another application on each nipple.

Real good, she concluded.

The effects were fast. Her nipples throbbed as if he had clamped them. She moaned and shook completely forgetting about the spreading oil on her pussy seeping into the rest of her crevice. If anything the warming sensation felt relieving compared to what was happening to her nipples.

He saw her hands grip the ends of the chains connected to the cuffs.

“Too much?” He rubbed a thigh.

She didn’t answer. She growled and breathed steadily.

“In a moment the rest of the gods will bless you.” He walked around the horse to the package and picked up another item.

Aranea could feel her nipples engorging. I’ve had worse done to them, she thought to herself. She fought through the burn.

She suddenly heard Ignis right in front of her. He had jumped up on top of the horse. He put a finger under her chin. “How are we?”

She moaned breathlessly. “It burns.”

He traced the finger down her neck, down her chest, down her stomach and over her mound. He slipped the finger into her pussy. “You’re tensing.”

She wiggled her hips.

“You’re right. It was a little much. Before I know it you will cum and all of these toys will go to waste.” He knelt to a knee on the horse. It was uncomfortable but he was eye level to her breasts. “Here. This will help cut the heat.”

He caught a nipple in his mouth and suckled. The spice hit all of his taste buds. His own tongue swelled. He almost felt bad for what he did to her. Almost.

He licked his lips and suckled the other nipple. Now his lips were throbbing. It was certainly hot. No more hotter than one of the extra spicy dishes he enjoyed once in a while from one of his favorite ethnic restaurants in the city, but he could tell it was formulated to sting upon contact.

Aranea felt a bit of relief. His saliva was unfortunately spreading the throb, but it was better than the concentration that was directly on each nipple.

She then felt his hands place something cool on her. It was sticky. She looked down. It was the next toy: Ramuh’s Bolt.

He stuck two of the electrode pads on the sides of both breasts. She could feel the miniscule wirings throughout the pad as he smoothed them.

“Now where to put the other two?” He flapped the pads in front of her. He brushed the pads across her body.

“Perhaps?” He tickled her armpit.

She shook her head.

“Or perhaps?” He flicked a nipple.

She shook her head. Her nipples were already tortured. It would have been too much to have all four on her breasts alone.

“If I were devious…” He brushed one over her mound.

She shook her head again. “No, please, don’t.”

He jumped down from the horse and slapped her left butt cheek hard. It didn’t hurt her. It was a simple slap.

But something felt strange. Her skin where he slapped felt taut all of a sudden. She realized he placed one of the pads there.

“And where to put the fourth?” He stepped forward, wiggling the pad and tapping it against his other hand.

She kept her eyes on him. He was silhouetted by the open window overlooking the metropolis; distant streetlamps created a halo around him. The only thing she could truly make out were his spectacles gleaming hazily by the city lights.

The tango music continued. Though they were no longer dancing, he was still taking the lead.

He snapped his finger. He walked hastily to her, grabbed a handful of her crystal panties and pulled towards him. He locked her mid-air and touched her right inner-thigh.

He stuck the pad in that spot and smoothed it. She felt the tightening of her skin from the adhesive and the wiring.

He let go of her panties sending her swinging. Her knees tried to grip the bench to stop her from the motion. Then she felt a sharpness blast in the inner thigh. He had activated the electrode sending her wriggling.

It wasn’t terribly painful. Her heart raced no more than a jump-scare in a cheap horror movie, but it was nonetheless frightful.

“Damn. What setting was that?” She finally managed to blurt out calmly.

“Out of three, it was the second.” He held up the remote. She could barely make out the buttons as he pointed. “You were losing focus.”

“Losing focus?” She spat. “What the hell else am I supposed to focus on while you keep me tied up here?”

She barely finished the word “here” when the one on her left breast activated. She let out a yelp with that one.

He leaned against the bench as if he was merely looking at his phone; as if a naked woman was not dangling from the ceiling with electrodes attached all along her body. He looked almost bored.

She decided to keep quiet and focus on her breathing.

A minute passed. He looked up at her. “That’s better.”

Son of a bitch, she thought. But damn he’s good.

She fought the smile on her face. He noticed and savored it.

He slowly lowered her from the ceiling.

Finally some rest for my arms, she thought.

He activated the electrode on her ass. She yelped almost laughing. She found it was like a strange painful tickle.

As she felt herself finally close to coming into contact with the seat of the bench, she felt something odd. Instead of the panties, she felt something long and rough with strange edges.

Before she could get her bearings she was completely lowered onto whatever that thing was tangled in a pile of the crystal panties awkwardly bunched at her thighs.

“What is that?” She asked.

He activated the electrode on her other breast. She almost jumped off the seat.

“I’m the one telling the story.” He raised his hand toward her pussy and grabbed at the thing underneath her. She looked down and immediately recognized the hilt of the dragon scaled dildo sword. “The Draconian tests his warriors before he ordains them champion.”

He had slipped the dildo onto the panties parallel to her crevice; she was mounted on the dragon scaled end. He grabbed the hilt and slid it underneath her. She now felt the beads of Shiva’s Diamonds and the scales of the Draconian underneath her.

She moaned as her body felt each bit of the jaggedness.

“Thought you were going to stick that thing in me.”

He activated the electrodes on both breasts. That startled her greatly.

“I told you. He tests his warriors before he ordains them champion.” He said moving the dildo in a corkscrew motion. “Ramuh will keep you in line, awakening you if ever you falter.”

He walked over to the package and picked up the last two items.

“Ifrit does what he always does: burn and burn.”

“And Shiva and Bahamut are working together?”

Ignis activated the electrode on her buttock at level three. She felt a buzz and three consecutive shocks going at once. She screamed.

“Ramuh has judged that you are not being very obedient.” He said. “It seems another god is needed to keep you in line.”

He pulled Shiva’s Diamond Dust up as high as it could considering there was no true elasticity. The dildo took up much of the space preventing the underwear from covering her up completely. Then she saw him take the vibrator, Titan’s Fist, in his hand.

He pulled at the underwear and shoved the vibrator into the front of the panty, nearly hammering it into whatever space was, or wasn’t there. At this point Shiva was the bars holding closed an overcrowded cell.

“Damn it!” She cried out. “The hell are you up to?”

He activated all four of the electrodes now at level two. Her head flew up almost detaching the wig and mask from her head.

He circled her again. Ignis saw the panties barely covered her behind no thanks to the dildo and vibrator shoved into the underwear; the electrode being her only covering from the backside.

Aranea wondered what would happen if the vibrator was turned on. She shifted and shifted continually adjusting her seat on the uncomfortable pile of rubble.

There was no time to think. She knew what the last god was.

She heard the snap of leather. She was used to that sound. Every sub knows that sound from a mile away.

“Leviathan has a mind of her own, much like Ifrit. No one is strong enough to be her champion,” he said snapping the whip on the ground again. “When the gods are judging, she will rage, almost battling the other gods.”

Her nipples were thankfully no longer in pain, the hot oil already dissipated; Ifrit grew tired of this game. But she knew Leviathan was ready for a battle.

She gripped the chains on her wrist tight. “I’ll fight her. And I’ll win.”

“Good,” he whispered. She heard the whoosh of air and the crack of the leather. The sound was fast. She felt the thrash of the whip as well as the “fins” of Leviathan all across her back.

She didn’t cry out in any way. She sucked air in and concentrated.

Ignis adjusted his glasses. He was surprised by her strength every session. This wasn’t the first time a whip was used in their encounter, but this was the first time he used it in conjunction with five other toys.

He half-forgot about the remote control on his other hand. He decided not to shock her yet. He wanted her body to adjust to the whipping.

He had experience using all kinds of weapons, including whips, while training as a Crownsguard. Many members thought it a waste of time training in whip, but Ignis found it very practical.

He cracked the whip again. He saw the sinews of the muscles on her back, shoulders and arms tense up. At just two strikes there were already about five lashes on her skin no thanks to the “fins”.

He struck a third swing wide. The whip circled her ribs and the ends hit her breasts. Finally she cried out.

He rested the whip at his side. He hit the remote control of Ramuh’s Bolt randomly. The various electrodes on her body lit up. Level one, inner thigh. Level two, right breast. Level two, butt. Level three, left breast. Level three for inner thigh and butt. Level one both breasts.

It didn’t matter for Aranea. Everything was a way to keep her awake and aware.

He walked in front of her. He noticed three small lashes already made their marks on her chest and part of a breast from the last blow.

For Ignis she was a grand sight. For Aranea he was everything she was hoping for.

He lifted the remote control making sure she was seeing what he was about to press.

She gulped. He slid his thumb all across the switches. All four went off at level three.

She screamed, her head flying back looking up at the pulley holding up her arms. Each little chain seemed to throb. The continual buzz then shock, buzz then shock, sent tingles all throughout her body.

The shocks hurt, but she was still at ease. Her body was adjusting. They were more annoyances than pain. Her scream shifted to laughter. They tickled now, but a bad tickle.

When the shocks finally stopped she opened her eyes to see him holding the remote in one hand and the whip in the other. She saw a trail of water that followed him from the other side of the parlor.

_The pain is greater after immersing in water._

Aranea was impressed by the evening so far. She was doubly impressed at how stealthily he went in and out of the parlor without her noticing.

Ignis detected a smile.

He uncoiled the whip. “Ready for her true fury?”

She gripped her cuffs tight. “Are you?”

He now cracked a smile. She saw.

It was all about the front side now. Nothing new for her.

The cracks were hard and they were painful. The wet whip was no joke. It felt like punches more than lashes.

To get her mind off the pain she focused on him. She paid attention to the way he moved. He was graceful and confident. She could tell he was trained. Not trained as a dom, but trained to be a fighter.

His shoulders were broader than they initially appeared. Every time he raised his arms up the sleeves tightened.

He saw the welts appear across her stomach, chest, breasts and thighs. One of the electrodes from her breasts were flicked off by the fins.

She was exquisite to Ignis. The way her strong muscles tightened and her more feminine parts of her body jostled.

She was beyond wet now. She was ready to slip and slide off all the rocky jagged toys he had her sit on. The slick was making her fall off balance with each blow of the wet whip.

Damn, Leviathan’s such a bitch, she thought. She closed her eyes soaking in each and every strike.

Ignis saw it in her face; a wave of pleasure. He stopped. She was ready.

He pressed a button on the wall that released the pulley. The chains plopped on both sides of the bench, her arms falling with them.

She moaned. The chains were the only things keeping her entire weight from crushing onto her seat. The dildo and giant vibrator dug into her.

Ignis immediately dropped the whip and rushed to her. He half-shoved, half-helped her, onto her back. Finally her poor pussy was released from the ruthless terrain of the dragon scales and the little boulder.

The bench became her bed; a tiny little area big enough for her entire upper half. Her eyes remained closed as she savored everything she just felt.

Ignis saw a smile form as she touched herself; rubbing at the welts and at her pussy.

He roughly pulled the crystal panties completely off her. The dildo and vibrator rolled on the bench. The dildo nearly fell to the ground before he caught it.

He took her right leg and threw it over his shoulder so he could get a front-row seat of her gaping wet pussy. He saw she was more than wet.

He held onto the hilt of the dildo and pushed the tip into her.

She moaned with delight. She felt the curved tip gracing her g-spot. She was so wet she didn’t quite feel the scaled texture. She certainly felt the girth.

Ignis licked his lips. He smelled her scent. It was not the first time he pushed a dildo into a woman, but it was the first time he held one in the shape of a sword. It truly had the feeling of stabbing into flesh.

“Oh God!” she screamed breaking him out of his trance.

The way he angled the dildo was finally hitting her g-spot. She put her hand up to her breasts and fondled them; a free finger here and there rubbing at her nipples.

Ignis continued plunging as he watched her play with herself.

“Don’t cum yet,” he ordered as he repositioned her falling leg back up onto his shoulder.

Aranea knew he said those trigger words intentionally; a deviant form of reverse psychology. She tightened the walls of her vagina almost slowing the speed he was inserting the dildo.

Ignis knew she was fighting him now. He switched Titan’s Fist on.

Aranea’s eyes shot open from the evil sounding buzz of the vibrator. She didn’t even realize he had it in his hand.

Ignis leaned forward weighing her thigh closer to her stomach, planting her still for him. He placed the toy on her mound, massaging the area sweetly. He noticed a pink welt on her mound. He knew he hit her there at least once. His erection grew hard at the sight of it. He took a breath.

She moved her hips side to side sinking into the vibrator and fighting off her orgasm from the massive dildo.

He moved the vibrator directly onto her clit sending violent shockwaves throughout her body. She convulsed and shouted more than when Ignis activated the electrodes.

He noticed the hilt was getting more and more drenched by her juices. He drooled a little.

Her other leg rose into the air.

She wanted to cum so bad, but she held fast. She loved having her leg nearly wrapped around him. She almost imagined it was him sticking his own dick in her.

She no longer felt the girth of the dildo. She was gaping wide; drenched.

Her clitoris throbbed. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold off anymore.

“I want to cum!” She shouted immediately following with. “I’m going to cum!”

Ignis smiled. He decided to be polite and generous. “Go on now. Cum.”

She was already at her peak, nearly screaming. Her hands over her head; the chains still dangling from the cuffs around her wrists.

She splashed all over his hand and wrist pumping the dildo rapidly into her. Her strong leg muscles crushed into his shoulder while her free leg somehow found footing on the edge of the bench, raising her hips into the air as if trying to escape him.

He decided to be a little callous. He pressed the broadest side of the vibrator onto her clit.

“Oh you son of a bitch!” She screamed at him; laughter mixed in.

She loved when he took that every step. She never could go more than her climax, but Foresight always challenge her threshold.

A squirt came out of her that flew about a yard away from them.

There it is, he thought as he turned the vibrator off. Though comical for some, for him it was a breathtaking turn on.

Aranea’s hands flopped to the sides of the bench. Her chest rose hard, up and down.

Ignis dropped all the toys and ran his hand over the inner thigh of the leg that still rested over his shoulder.

He peeled off the drenched electrode. For a moment he wondered what wound happen if he switched on Ramuh’s Bolt soaking in her juices.

Would the electricity travel into her? He thought. He fought the urge and tossed the electrode aside.

“Damn, Four Eyes.” She nudged him with her knee.

He turned to see her sultry green eyes staring into his. He adjusted his glasses.

“How do you feel?” He brushed his knuckles over her mound. She nearly shrieked. She softly, but firmly, bumped his chin with her knee. “Want to take a look?”

He helped her off the bench. She rubbed her pussy. It was sensitive. She recalled all the different textures and grains and impressions that pounded into her femininity.

She stood before the full length mirror. Dozens upon dozens of pink lashes streaked across her body in every direction. None on her face as per contract.

“Here.” He handed her a smaller mirror. She turned and looked at the reflection upon reflection to see the extent of the lashes on her back.

“Leviathan was mad at me,” she said running a finger over the marks over her breasts. “She got me right on the nipple a few times.”

“I saw she managed one down there,” he said pointing at the single pink lash across her mound that trailed to her hip.

“It was cruel.” She ran her fingers over the area. Ignis followed each stroke. She turned and looked at him. “But I deserved it.”

He stood behind her. His forehead drenched in sweat, his glasses somewhat fogged. He wrapped his arm around her and presented an elixir.

“Hurry, before these welts become permanent.” She held out her hand.

He pressed his nose into the side of her head, his lips just barely grazing her ear. “You were marvelous.”

His voice was mesmerizing, sending shivers to all the points of her body. He cracked the elixir. They both stared at the mirror watching the welts disappear.

“I think the gods found great favor in you.” Ignis helped her back into her fallen dress.

“Are you an Oracle or something?” She stretched. She still felt everything she endured.

“Well, what did you think of the might of the gods?” He put his hands on his hips. Aranea noticed a part of his shirt was untucked from his trousers. She fought all urge to walk right on up to him and break open his shirt.

“I think the gods turned a blind eye just for tonight.” She slipped her shoes on. She didn’t know quite why she believed what she said, but she somehow felt assured.

Ignis didn’t want to say it outright, but he, too, felt relieved. Though he knew many in society would deem what his secret life as a dom as profane and blasphemous, a great part of him wholeheartedly worshipped the Astrals.

“Here. Penance.” Aranea handed him the envelope of cash. He took it.

“When will I see you next?” He crossed his arms.

A part of her wanted to stay and chat, but it would have been inappropriate.

“Always planning ahead.” She smiled wrapping into her coat.

“Part of my duties.” He pressed his lips and cleared his throat, punishing himself internally for nearly giving away a detail about himself.

She noticed he seemed strange when he said the word _duties._

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Steyliff Grove: Present

Aranea escorted several of Ardyn Izunia’s team of researchers at the archaeological site. Steyliff Grove was crawling with daemons. Several areas were too dense with spawning daemons to have the researchers safely gather data.

The studies had to be called off, but they gathered enough information in the first round.

As the last of the researchers left, she readied her men to depart, but the Chancellor insisted she stay to help a team that would need her in the site.

“More researchers?” She asked, annoyed, knowing this was just further punishment.

“Consider them special trainees,” he gave a little laugh. “Recruits.”

Aranea was always a straightforward person. Dealing with Ardyn Izunia and his oft vague replies was infuriating.

“What for?”

“For a precious resource found right here in Steyliff. Mythril.”

Aranea recalled the researchers talking about traces of mythril in the area and likely deeper in the site.

“They should be arriving soon. I shall usher them to you,” he said walking away.

Aranea rolled her eyes.

“I expect to get paid!” She shouted.

“Of course,” Ardyn shouted. “Perhaps an envelope of cash?”

Aranea did her best to keep her composure in front of her men.

“By the gods,” Aranea whispered to herself; fists clenched. “Will this punishment ever end?”

 

 

To be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ardyn is icky. LOL.
> 
> Next chapter is every Highspecs fans' favorite in-game section: CHAPTER SEVEN in Steyliff!


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